Guns of Fate
by Shinsou808
Summary: AU. Where there were once swords, there are guns. Where there was honor, there is deceit. Where there was peace, there is all out war. At the heart of this modern battlefield lies Fuyuki City. Mostly Shirou/Saber, some Archer/Rin.
1. Soldiers of Fate

**GUNS OF FATE**

**BY**

**SHINSOU808**

**CHAPTER I  
**

**Soldiers of Fate  
**

**DISCLAIMER: **_All trademarks belong to their respective owners, including Fate/Stay Night to TYPE-MOON. I do not own a shred of anything outside my original characters and plot ideas._

It was a crisp and quiet evening in Fuyuki City. People were casually walking through the streets and enjoying their business as the full moon beamed from its perch. It was magically quiet. There were no disturbances of magical activity since the Holy Grail war ended. Only the sounds of the wind pierced the silent forest. Life in Fuyuki City seemed in perfect balance for all its residents, whether magical or otherwise. As the wind whistled outside, Shirou appreciated that feeling.

Rin read from one of her magic books. "The amount of mana crystals can release is determined by two critical laws, the Dulong-Petit law and Kirisame's law, which…"

Shirou gazed at the landscape. He couldn't believe it had been over a year since Saber had left all of them. He still had that stuffed lion he meant to give to her on their first date. Even still, life moved on. Fuji-nee still came here regularly, Ilya split her time between the Einzberg Castle and the Emiya Mansion, Sakura was entering her final year of high school, and he was stuck here trying to get into the magus academy. Luckily, Rin was off on term break to help. He promised to himself that he'd never forget her, but he tried not to reminisce about it every day. Tohsaka probably thought the same way about Archer leaving, but Shirou did not want to guess.

"Shirou!" Rin snapped. "Pay attention!"

"I am, Tohsaka."

"Forcing compressed mana into physical entities for potential release is not…" Rin paused, setting the book gently down on the table. "It's her isn't it?" she asked.

Shirou looked down for a moment. "It is, Tohsaka. I can't believe it's been over a year."

Rin sighed sympathetically. "You're a sentimental idiot."

"I know," Shirou said, trying to refocus on the studying at hand despite memories of the Holy Grail War coming back to him. That unforgettable month of pain, sacrifice, and victory. His memories were a blur, but they were a beautiful one. "Please continue, Tohsaka."

"Alright, if you insist," Rin said dubiously. "Compressed mana is often unstable when used in significant amounts. A magus must exert a focused stream of mana greater than or equal to the object of transfer. Once mana is successfully embedded in the object, it will tune itself to the elemental composition until release." Rin reached for a pouch and dumped crystals of various shapes, sizes, and colors onto the table. "Here, try the fluorite one," she pointed to the slightly chipped amber crystal.

Shirou picked it up and looked at it curiously, "So… I try to force mana in here?"

"Yep. Clench it in your hand so more magical circuits can connect to it. Try to do it non-verbally if you can."

Shirou tried to focus his energy. He felt the resistance of the crystal and tried to overcome it using his magical circuits. His lack of focus conflicted with the transfer as mind wandered from memory to memory. Those wonderful moments of where everyone was at the chaotic mess of dinner taunted his mind. But those memories of her were the hardest to shake. He tried once more to push through, but he couldn't. His magical circuits felt like they were burnt out.

"I'm sorry Tohsaka, I can't," Shirou admitted.

"If you want to become a magus, you must, Shirou," Rin crossed her arms. "You're holding a novice crystal. You need to be at least quartz to even be considered. Reinforcement and Projection won't get you into the academy alone."

A bright light blinded the both of them. Shirou raised his arm up to shield his eyes. He felt the house vibrate under his feet. A wave of heat enveloped Shirou. It wasn't hot but it was certainly warmer than the air around them. As the wave of light and heat dissipated, Shirou lowered his arms, still reluctant to believe what happened.

"Was that you, Tohsaka?" Shirou asked astonishingly.

Rin shook her head, "Was that a servant? It must be."

Shirou looked around and saw a figure standing in the courtyard illuminated by the full moon outside. Blonde locks shuffled with the light breeze. A faint smile shined through the darkness. Even though its face was darkened by the evening's shadows, Shirou had a good idea of who it was. He stood up and eagerly ran to meet the figure, even though there was the real possibility it might not be her.

"Shirou, wait!" Rin called.

Shirou ignored Rin and kept running. He stopped in awe of the figure before him. Her appearance was starkly different from the Grail War. Her hair was tied in a simple bun compared to the complex one that covered the back of her head. The multicolored and multifaceted sword and armor were replaced by an olive green and black assault rifle in her hands. Camouflage in various shapes of black, brown, and green covered her body. Boots of gleaming steel were replaced with polished, blackened leather. Her aura of a grandiose knight was replaced by the drab simplicity of a modest, but proud soldier.

"I'm home, Shirou," she announced gracefully.

In that moment, all doubts ceased to exist. While her clothing and equipment had changed, her beady green eyes and angelic smile remained the same since she left him on that fateful morning. Shirou rested his hand on the same soft cheek.

"Shirou…" Saber responded to his touch.

"Saber…" Shirou wondered in awe. It had to be an unusually deceptive mirage. He brought his head closer. He wanted to know if her soft lips were still the same.

"I do not understand, Shirou. What is the meaning of this?" she asked awkwardly, pulling on her camouflage military jacket with gentle uneasiness. She looked at her olive green and black L85A2 assault rifle suspiciously, toying at the SUSAT scope attached to her weapon. "Where is my sword? My scabbard? My armor?"

Now that Saber mentioned it, Shirou was just as concerned. "Uh… Tohsaka!" he called.

"I'm just as confused as you are," Rin replied.

* * *

Two slender figures in the treetops peered at the city like specters. They were dressed in their ghillie suits, imitating hunters focusing on their targets. The conifer trees rustled with their every footsteps. They looked down on the city with watchful eyes. Their breath condensed in the crisp mountain air. The full moon provided the perfect amount of lighting. This was a perfect night for hunting.

"So… what can you tell me about the conditions?" the master asked, taking a mental note of his surroundings.

His student raised up a pair of binoculars. "I'd say not more than 10 kilometer winds coming from the east. Temperature about 11 degrees."

The master raised up his binoculars, judging his student's evaluation. "Not bad. I'd put it closer to eight and a half kilometers and 12.5 degrees. What about in the city?"

"Temperature and wind variation in the city are close enough, sir."

"Don't get complacent," the master calmly chided. "There is no such thing as 'close enough.' You're either right or wrong."

"Yes, sir."

"Let's set up here," the master said, lowering his binoculars. He grabbed his SAKO TRG42 sniper rifle with an olive drab green stock and a blackened chrome barrel, bolt, and trigger off his back. He attached his Schmidt & Bender telescopic sight to the body and screwed on his suppressor to the barrel of the sniper rifle. He stole some small pine branches and attached it to the scope and the barrel. The master curled up into a comfortable sitting position against the tree's bark. The rifle nested snugly against his shoulders and cheek.

His student sat beside him as a spotter, keenly watching through a pair of binoculars, . "Are you ready?" the student asked.

The master focused through his scope. "Ready. Call out the targets."

"First target. 9 o'clock, three centimeters, 800 meters. Fire when ready."

The master took a shallow breath and squeezed the sensitive trigger with his gloves. The round rocketed from the barrel and struck its human target. He watched from his scope as the person was completely vaporized into thin air. The master pulled and rotated the bolt back and then pushed it forward, starting the process all over again.

"Hit," his student confirmed. "One and a half centimeters at 3 o'clock, 750 meters."

Another shot, another target down.

"Hit. 9 'o clock, one centimeter, 900 meters."

Another shot, another person vaporized.

"Hit. 3 'o clock…"

"That's enough for tonight," the master interrupted, hitting the magazine release button with his right hand and catching the free magazine with his left. "We have enough mana to last for a few more days before we have to hunt again."

His student argued. "But sir, there's more than enough in the city to last the whole month, years maybe. Especially with your abilities, you could harvest the whole town in a week."

The master sighed, "I could… but I only take what I need. See this," he pointed to his head. "This is your best tool. It knows when to hold your position or to retreat, when to pull the trigger, and most importantly, to admit when enough is enough," he explained. "We are not at war nor should we try to start one."

"Yes, sir."

"Observations are our greatest asset," the master reminded. He looked around suspiciously. He felt the piercing gaze of someone watching them from afar. "Don't you get the feeling we're being watched?"

The student's eyes widened in horror.

"Move,_" _the master ordered as they retreated into the forest. The master and student sprinted from tree to tree, making sure to stay within close range of cover. The master remembered to look back occasionally, as his student was less adept and less experienced than he was. While he was serious and sometimes impersonal, he would never abandon his student. He noticed that the student quickly grew fatigued from running around in the ghille suits that were so important in disguising them.

"Sir!" his student cried.

The master turned around and rushed to his student's aid. "You alright?" he asked. Before his student could respond, the master saw a figure on the upper branches illuminated by the moonlight. It was no doubt another sniper.

"Down," he commanded as he saw the rifle flash. The bolt hit one of the nearby trees, causing bark, limbs, and needles to fly everywhere. The master re-attached the magazine to his rifle, turned around, and pushed the bolt forward. He shot the lone figure in the trees but it disappeared into thin air. The master needed all the eyes he could get.

"Look around. Where is he?" he calmly told his student while turning the bolt.

"To your right, five meters up." his student pointed.

The master shot at him but the shooter disappeared again.

"Left, seven and a half meters up," the student said.

The master shot at him again but the shooter disappeared without a trace. He scanned the area thoroughly with the Findot Scope, moving from tree to tree. There was no possible way he could have disappeared into nowhere. Confident that he fled from the area, the master redirected his attention to his student.

"Are you okay? Can you walk?"

"Barely," his student answered, as the master helped his student up. "I'll be fine, sir."

The master had to recognize his student's guts in the face of fire. Where most would lose all sense of reason in their first encounter with their first enemy, his student kept a calm mind. The master slung his rifle over his back and grunted as he lifted his student's arm over his shoulder. It was supposed to be a simple hunting mission, but turned into something much more. The master had learned to be prepared against the unexpected, but it was certainly a teachable moment for the both of them.

"_Kaveria ei jätetä_," he reflected.

"What is that, sir?" his student wondered.

"It's a saying we used during the Winter War, 'Never leave a friend behind.'"

* * *

Shirou, Rin, and Saber came inside form the yard, still not sure of what just happened. Shirou could scarcely believe it was real. He flicked flicked on the lights. They sat around the table in the dining room, where they usually met to discuss important topics.

"Rin, explain to me what is this I am wearing," Saber said.

"It's camouflage. It disguises you in the natural environment. If you were running around in the forest with your armor on, you'd be instantly spotted. Camouflage tries to reduce that."

"I see," Saber said with a hint of uneasiness. "And what is this?" Saber laid the olive green and black assault rifle flat on the table. "Is it a gun?"

Shirou and Rin nodded. "But why would the Holy Grail summon you as a soldier?" Rin inquired.

"I do not know, Rin. The only thing I remember is finding myself summoned here. The Holy Grail had nothing to do with it. I do not feel like a servant."

"Hmm…" Rin crossed her arms. "Shirou, take off your shirt," she demanded.

Shirou looked at Rin skeptically. "Is this necessary, Tohsaka?"

"Yes, you idiot! Now!" Rin snapped.

Shirou took off his shirt. Rin marveled at his toned body and strong arms. "I can see why Saber loves you. She likes a perfect body," she flattered. "It's all for style, isn't it Emiya-kun?"

"Shut up!"

"Arms up, palms out," Rin said, looking around Shirou's body for any sign of a command seal. Even on the traditional place, the back of the hand, it was not there. Shirou saw the obvious look of dissatisfaction on her face. "Take off your pants."

"This really isn't necessary, Tohsaka," Shirou said, irritated by Rin's flattery. It seemed she wouldn't give up. "Have you found a command seal yet?"

"No, not yet," Rin smirked. "But I'm sure Saber would love to do it for you. Wouldn't you agree, Emiya-kun?"

"T-That's not the point."

"Rin, if I was not summoned by the Holy Grail, what else could there be? Since there is no Holy Grail war, there should be no Command Spells," Saber suggested.

"You're right," Rin sighed in disappointment. She stood up and glanced at the clock. "I've got to head home. I'll see if there is any word from the Mages' Association."

Shirou and Saber followed her to the entrance hall to see Rin off. "Anyway, it's great seeing you again," Rin said as she hugged Saber. She hugged Shirou as well. "Now that Saber's back, maybe you two can get it on again," she coyly purred into his ear.

Shirou hoped Saber didn't hear that. "Tohsaka!" he said irritably.

He looked at her awkwardly as Rin giggled like a gossiping schoolgirl. She put on her jacket and shoes and walked out into the darkness. Shirou never really understood why he was the butt of Rin's flattery even after the Grail War; and perhaps he never will.

"Shirou, will you please show me how to operate that weapon?" Saber asked.

"I'm not certain with all the functions, but I'll try."

Shirou and Saber gathered around the table where the olive green and black assault rifle was waiting for them. He flipped it around to its left side and pointed to the selector switch.

"This is the selector switch," he explained, assuming that Saber was relatively new with firearms. "When it's down, it will fire as long as you pull the trigger. When up, it fires one shot at a time."

Shirou went over all the other functions as best he could with his limited knowledge of studying Kirigitsu's notes. He noted that the magazine release and takedown pins were stuck. Since it was magically summoned out of thin air, he figured it was the peculiar nature of the gun. It was certainly a peculiar gun to look at. The magazine was located farther back than what Shirou imagined. He guided Saber's arms as he showed her how to steady the weapon against her shoulder and more importantly, how to aim it. Shooting a gun that came out of nowhere in his house was a foolish idea.

"So this is a gun," Saber looked at her new weapon with a sense of uneasy respect and put it down on the table. "Shirou, please allow me to change into much more suitable clothing."

"Ah… sure," Shirou replied.

As Saber ran off to change into more casual clothes, Shirou looked at the assault rifle and resented its appearance. A gun's purpose was to kill. That was its only purpose. Unlike a sword, a gun couldn't be retooled so easily for peaceful purposes. It was in its nature. It did that one thing well and there was no point in trying to change it. Through Kirigitsu's writings, he had already found out what he did during the 4th Holy Grail war with Saber. It was easier to forgive her since she openly clashed with Kirigitsu's dishonorable way of fighting. It gave him a stronger reason not to visit his gravesite as often.

Saber returned in yellow pajamas with her hair loose. She clutched the stuffed lion against her chest. "Shirou, what is this?" she smiled innocently.

Shirou glanced at the stuffed animal and looked away. It brought back some painful memories. "I meant to give that you on our date. I know it's been over a year."

"I see nothing wrong with it. You do not need to purchase a new one."

Now that Rin was gone and the Emiya mansion was left to themselves; Shirou decided it was a perfect time to catch up on unfinished business. He placed his hands on Saber's shoulder and gazed longingly in her emerald eyes. "Saber, I…"

Shirou was silenced by her slender finger. "I do not wish to be called Saber, as I am not a servant anymore. Please call me Arturia, as it is a proper name." she smiled.

"Okay… Arturia," Shirou said, placing his hand on her tender cheek. He bent down slightly and kissed her like on that night, craving her soft lips absent from him all this time. The feeling of love and being loved was a powerful and irreplaceable feeling that was painfully taken from him at the end of the last Grail War. He didn't want it to be cut short over a stupid war.

They broke apart. "Arturia, I love you," Shirou said.

"I know," Arturia said, wrapping her arms around Shirou's neck. "I love you too…"

Shirou enveloped his hands around Arturia's waist and nuzzled against her neck. "Please tell me you're here to stay."

"I will stay with the man that I love, whatever it takes," Arturia reassured Shirou. "That is promise I intend to keep."

There was an enormous weight of worry and guilt that was lifted off of Shirou's shoulders. "I will… I will do the same," Shirou swore.

They stood there for a few minutes, with neither of them quite willing to let go completely. Shirou loved every feeling of his ex-servant's touch. With Arturia, he finally felt content and complete. There was nothing that could stop Shirou now, not even another Holy Grail War.

"But Artruria, If you aren't a servant, then what are you?" Shirou asked.

"Let us not worry, Shirou. There are better things to focus on."

* * *

A hooded figure stood outside the church of Fuyuki City. He had grown to view the Church in contempt. If it wasn't the gaudy architecture that offended him, it was certainly the scandals revolving around the once prestigious institution. The Church was far from perfect and had fallen from grace a millennia ago. It needed to be cleansed from the inside. He touched the cold, iron gates with contempt and wished it could be broken by the slightest squeeze of his hand.

"Come, Mephistopheles," he said. "Don't you think all of this is unnecessary? The Church is corrupted is by sinful beings. We must pure them."

"Whatever is your desire, master," Mephistopheles said. He was dressed in a tightly fitting black suit. His impeccably pressed slacks fluttered slightly in the wind. He straightened his burgundy tie and made sure his high and tight red haircut looked sharp.

"_Pater noster, qui es in caelis…_" his master prayed.

"Please do not use those objectionable words in front of me, Master," Mephistopheles said.

"Forgive me for my trespass."

"That apology is not necessary."

"Mephistopheles," his master commanded. "Cleanse their souls for me. They have gone astray in service to their so called Church."

He teleported to the other side of the locked gate and transformed his appearance to that of a priest. The temperature dropped sharply but they were not fazed by it. Mephistopheles straightened his horn-rimmed glasses that rested on his thin nose. He never cared for these so called inventions of humans, but they would suit him just fine.

"Your desires are my will," he said, pulling his short and stubby MP7 submachine gun out of his robes. He pulled back the charging handle, the stock, and extended the foregrip. The members inside the entire church would be damned tonight, all for his Master's command.

"I anticipate your healthy return," his master encouraged.

"As do I," he said as he ran off into the darkness. He never really understood why he was here but maybe things could turn out for the better.

_- FINIS Chapter I_-

**Author's Note: Because I've got some explaining to do...**

I got this idea while replaying the game over again and wondered "What if they had guns? What if I gave servants an assault rifle instead of... Excalibur?" While looking the same as their real life counterparts, guns will be heavily modified from their real world functionality to put it in more of the realm of fantasy. I've given hints on what I've given to translate the ideas of guns into the Fate universe but I have commissioned Rin to explain the finer details in the next chapter. I am not taking suggestions of which guns want to be featured. I do the research and they're balanced to not favor a particular manufacturer or country over another.

Because trying to pick a favorite route is like picking your own child, I have tried to mix certain aspects from the other routes of Fate/stay night. I have also sought to include information from hollow/ataraxia and fate/zero with the limited amount of Japanese I have and off the wikis. I will rework and omit certain aspects from the Fate universe to better fit the alternate universe of guns where there was once swords. Deciding what to keep, throw out, and re-work was certainly not an easy process but I hope it fits in the "spirit" of Fate. I assure you that Noble Phantasms will be included.

Characters will be a mix of the historic, the modern, the familiar, and the new. I have a general idea of who I want them to be. I think I have given some obvious clues on who they are and who their masters are. I hope I get the characters right and not excessively out of character but please let me know if I do!

Yes, I too have followed the stable path of ShirouXSaber with some kind of conflict to bring her back. I'll admit, I like Saber! Will it be because of the Holy Grail? Probably not. The grail will still have considerable influence. I have chosen another artifact because the Grail was supposed to have been destroyed the last two wars. I don't want to have to bug it a third time to get destroyed... again. I do not like using exceptionally rehashed plot lines released from the game or created by other fanfiction users and I thought this would be a good compromise.

Love it, hate it? Feedback? Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!

Until next time.


	2. Harbingers of Fate

**Chapter II**

**Harbingers of Fate**

**DISCLAIMER: **_All trademarks belong to their respective owners, including Fate/Stay Night to TYPE-MOON. I do not own a shred of anything outside my original characters and plot ideas._

The master woke up by instinct, still in the twilight of pre-dawn hours. After finishing his simple morning routine, he sat alone at his mahogany desk, thinking about the mission last night. Even though he felt like he could defeat whoever that lone assassin was on his own terms, he still had to wonder about his identity. There was something unique about that sniper, even if he only saw him through a scope. A can of BOSS BLACK was piping hot and waiting patiently next to him when he was finished. The heater automatically clicked on, even though he wasn't cold.

He stood up and went to wash his face. He sat down at his desk, trying to decide how he was going to plan the next hunt. Some urban sniping to switch things up didn't seem like a bad idea. But the master couldn't do this forever. His cover would be blown eventually. The blank walls seemed to echo his thoughts. He watered the blue and white violets resting on the windowsill. It was the best thing he could do for now.

A knock came from the door. "Standby," he said. He grabbed a black balaclava and pulled it over his head. "Come in."

The student came in and said, "Good morning, sir." The student's blonde hair was in a loose ponytail.

"Morning," the master acknowledged, scratching the back of his neck. The balaclavas got itchy sometimes. "Need anything?"

"Do you have a moment? I want to talk."

The master thought for a moment. "Pull up a chair," he rested his elbow onto the desk. He had a feeling this conversation was not going to be ordinary.

The student grabbed a simple oak chair and sat down. "Sir, who are you really? You said you served in the Utti Jaeger Regiment and corresponded with the SAS. Something doesn't add up."

"Go on."

"Even still, you said you liked to prefer the iron sights if you had a choice. And didn't you say you had a preference for Mosin-Nagants? Even though you thought the Sako TRG was more practical?"

"I have my preferences, but I am not blind. I modify my tactics accordingly."

"You remind me of Simo Hayha, sir."

"Hardly," the master shrugged. "He was the best sniper of all time, but don't confuse me with him."

The student looked around sharply. "I don't smell vodka."

"That's because I hardly drink," the Master commented. He tapped his fingers on the desk, "Look, if all you're going to do is to comment on my personal habits, a better idea would be to get back to practice. We're going to go out to hunt again in a few days."

The student paused. "Sir, can please you take off your mask?"

"Why? My role as a superior is clear. My appearance doesn't make any-"

The student stood up, "Stop saying that! You know that as much as I do! I don't know of any sane person in the world that likes to serve under an anonymous superior."

The master paused for a moment. "I do," he replied.

"Sir, you are full of it!" the student spat.

"Stand down," the Master ordered. "I've explained this to you before. It's for my security. Once you're this good, you attract a lot of people."

The student sat back down again. The student's haunting green glare was hard to ignore. The master knew what his student said was true but it would only lead to the inevitable. Sitting in front of him was his best student. No, it was the best student that hasn't sold him out yet. There was one person still out there with nearly all the skills the master taught him.

"I disagree, sir. I thought sniper- no, everything is based on trust."

"That's where you lead to fraternization."

"I'm not trying to imply that," the student sighed. "Look sir; just tell me right now if it's better off for me to go back where I came from. I won't hold it against you."

The temptation was there, but the master refused to do it. He had seen the person in front of him grow with his eyes. This person of noble character, patience, and strength could be counted on. This person was the runt that met his high standards day in and day out. He realized that he was holding the student back all this time. It was a difficult choice for him to reveal his identity, but figured now was the best time to do so.

He tugged on his balaclava, "That would be a terrible waste."

"No way," the student wondered in amazement as the master pulled the rest of his balaclava over his head. "Even though you look so much like him, you can't be."

The master's face remained undisturbed. He grabbed the BOSS BLACK from his desk and calmly took a sip from it. It wasn't so bad. He expected a more dramatic response out of his student, like he would have to jump out of his seat or something. His relaxed chestnut eyes didn't focus on anything in particular. His combed back brown hair didn't budge from his high forehead.

He re-focused his attention back to his student, who was still staring at him in disbelief. He gulped down the coffee that was in his mouth. "Stop staring at me like that," the master said. "You're going to give yourself a heart attack."

"Sir, who are you?"

The master sighed and tilted his head back. He knew this was going to be hard to swallow at best and that he would have to do a lot of explaining. "I'm… Simo Hayha."

The student looked at him with even more astonishment and pointed at him. "You... you... Simo Hayha?"

The master rested his head into his hand. "You got a problem with that?"

"He's dead! In Finland! He wouldn't just show up in the middle of Japan."

He shrugged. "It's too complicated for me to try to explain it all to you in one day."

"I don't believe you."

"I wouldn't blame you." The master pulled out a small, navy blue case out of one of the desk drawers and opened it. Inside was a blue ribbon with thin white stripes running down the sides. Grime and the passage of time discolored the threads. Hanging from it was a small medal that read, "URHEUDESTA FÖR TAPPERHET" around the outside. Inside was a crowned lion with a sword in its paw. "I'm not trying to lie to you… Iris," he said. It was the first time he had used her name. "But I'm afraid I don't have my Pystykorva or my Suomi KP/-31 with me."

"But 700 kills in 100 days," Iris said. "Don't you ever regret killing that many people in such a short amount of time?"

The master had no regrets. He was a warrior that fought in the most brutal war known to man, against everything from one of the most powerful armies in the world could throw at him. He didn't care if he was a legend. He survived the war and lived out the rest of his days in peace. That was all he could ask for.

He glanced at the violets. "I did what I was told to as well as I could," he said and took another sip of the coffee.

* * *

Shirou woke up with the first rays of morning glittering through the shoji windows. With a dreamless night and Arturia back, it seemed like a perfect dream to him. As he entered Arturia's room, he smiled at the sight of her figure sprawling comfortably on her futon. Her gun rested shrewdly on the dresser, pointing up toward the ceiling. If Fuji-nee found out there was a gun here, he was certainly going to have an earful. Even still, the gun nagged him. There was something about it that it was ominously foreboding, like another war was going to break out.

He dismissed that thought as he left Arturia to sleep in as long as she liked. Since Sakura made breakfast the other day, it was his day to do the same. Even though his Western cooking wasn't up to par as Sakura's, it was still a good idea to have a change of pace from the Japanese breakfasts.

Shirou decided to use one of those waffle irons Fuji-nee brought home from her junk collecting spree. He made a simple batter and poured it into the waffle iron. He got out a jar of raspberry jam from the cupboard. Breakfast was going to be simple, just like he wanted.

"Nii-san!" Ilya rammed into Shirou. "What's for breakfast today?"

"Waffles," Shirou groaned.

"What type are you making? Are you making Liège waffles today?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Shirou! I'm hungry!" Fuji-nee barged into the living room. She glanced into the kitchen. "I'm glad you're putting the waffle iron to good use."

"Good morning, senpai," Sakura greeted. "Do you need help?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Shirou said.

Breakfast was lively as Shirou wanted it to be. He wanted Rin and Arturia to be here but he figured that they would rather sleep more than they would want to eat. After breakfast was over, Shirou saw Fuji-nee and Sakura off as they headed toward school. Ilya left the house later to go back toward the Einzbern Mansion.

Shirou walked toward the shed. The sun's warm rays found its way through breaks in the clouds. The birds chirped playfully outside. Shirou felt something hard hit his head, like someone threw a rock at him. He turned around and saw Rin standing behind him.

"Tohsaka, you!" Shirou said.

"Jeez. Not even a 'Good Morning', Shirou?" Rin brushed her hair aside. "But I don't have any time for formalities. Grab Sab- I mean, Arturia and meet up in the back."

"But-"

"Oh, and grab the gun too," she interrupted Shirou.

Shirou and Arturia met up with Rin in the guesthouse where she lived during the Grail War. Some of Rin's belongings were still there, like her antique miniature clock. Shirou set the gun down on the bed.

"Have you found out anything from the mages association?" Shirou asked.

"Well, the bulletins from the Clock Tower mention that it's definitely not a Holy Grail War. The Holy Grail hasn't even been called on, much less summoned." Rin glanced at the assault rifle. "Shirou, I assume you haven't used your tracing powers on a real gun."

"It's illegal even if I hold one," Shirou explained. "But I have a general idea of how they work."

"I see," Rin nodded and picked up the assault rifle. She looked down its scope. "While it looks and aims the same as a regular gun, its functionality is completely different. The key difference is that it fires compressed mana bursts instead of bullets as long as the trigger is pulled. It will keep shooting as long as there is enough spiritual pressure to compress the mana and fire it."

"But I am not a servant, Rin," Arturia spoke up.

"But you are still a spirit in corporal from that can transfer magical energy to an object. Am I mistaken?"

"You are not, Rin."

"Then it should be easy. All it needs are od from the magus to compress mana."

"Can it be fired continuously, Tohsaka?" Shirou said.

"If you did that, it would overheat rather quickly," Rin replied.

Shirou noticed that someone had broken through the boundary field. If he had noticed, Rin and Arturia must have as well. Before any of them had any time to say anything, a figure appeared right in front of them. His flaming blonde faux hawk clashed with his black hair and black t-shirt. His khaki cargo pants showed off his tall and slender build. He grabbed a cigarette out of his sage green tactical vest and lit up casually.

"Yo. Peace!" he smirked mischievously, gate-crashing into Shirou's house without any sign of regret.

"Are you a servant?" Rin asked.

"I don't serve anybody, lady. Here," he grabbed a peach out of one his many pockets and tossed it at Rin. "May be a little bruised but it'll be alright. Heheh."

The man took a step toward Shirou and swung his tail like a baseball bat. Shirou could faintly hear Arturia gasp as he was catapulted through the air. The ground took Shirou's landing. If it had been concrete, his back would have been shattered. As Shirou tried to stand, he saw the person right in front of him.

"You Emiya Shirou, aren't ya?" he mused. "The winner of the Grail War? I'm disappointed." He reached over his shoulder and pointed his black Benelli M4 shotgun at Shirou. "Did your servant do all the work?"

Shirou tried to imagine what could possibly defeat his assailant. "Trace-"

"Aww...you know that ain't gonna work," he frowned coyly, lowering his shotgun down a bit. "You don't have much of a killing instinct do ya?"

The sound of gunfire interrupted him. Shirou instinctively dropped to the ground. "Get away from Shirou!" Arturia demanded.

Shirou looked toward where he was knocked through. The wall where he was smashed through had masonry crumbling all over the place. Arturia rushed out dressed in her camouflage with the assault rifle clutched tightly against her shoulder. Rin emerged shortly afterward with her jade jewels glowing in her fingertips. Shirou tried to muster enough energy to stand up, but couldn't. It was better to stay low anyway.

"Man, do you know how much this fauxhawk cost me?" Shirou turned around and saw him on the roof of his house. The shotgun rested comfortably on his knee. His tail extended to fix his hairstyle as precise as any actor on television. He licked his finger and rubbed it up his eyebrows.

A hail of gold and jade magical projectiles came from Arturia and Rin. Shirou marveled at the intruder's legs to propel him quickly from one ledge to another. He laughed as every shot from Arturia's assault rifle missed him, not even damaging a thread on his outfit. Even though his frenetic leaping must have required enormous amounts of energy, his mischievous smile never broke. Rin fared no better as her shots never scared him.

"Sorry for gatecrashing your place ladies, but I've got to end this. Noble Phantasm, Rúyì Jīngū Bàng."

Shirou couldn't believe he even had a Noble Phantasm. Shirou watched as his shotgun nearly doubled in length, easily longer than a sniper rifle. Arturia and Rin jumped out of the way as flames erupted from the barrel. His shotgun shortened and another blast tore through the air. Shirou watched helplessly as Rin slumped to the ground beside him.

"Tohsaka!" he shouted. Even though his ribs were screaming for mercy, Shirou managed to roll Rin onto her back. Her blouse was torn by the blast. Any closer and she would have been killed instantly.

"Damn it!" Rin gritted while trying to control the blood coming out of her torso. "What is he?"

Arturia rushed over to where Rin and Shirou were. Her stomps were dull thuds in his ears. Her mouth was moving but Shirou couldn't understand what she was saying. Even Shirou knew that even with her assault rifle, she couldn't last much longer. It looked as if he was going to die here, but Shirou couldn't give up. He breathed in to maybe calm his nerves. This was his best opportunity, while he was distracted fighting Arturia. He focused through the raging torrent of fire.

"Trace on…"

A blurry image of a charcoal gray pistol appeared in Shirou's vision. He didn't have time to make it perfect. All he needed was one shot. One strong shot. The pistol was summoned into his right hand. It was light, suspiciously light, but Shirou had no other option. His arms shook as he brought it up near a blurry black figure. His mind raced. His heart wanted to burst but there were no regrets. That gamble was all on that one shot. Shirou closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

Hot shards of metal flew into his face and into his shoulder. His hands lurched cried out in pain. He collapsed on his back, knowing it was all over. He couldn't protect the people he cared about the most. But he wanted to at least see her one last time. Instead of seeing her though, he saw the one who started it all through his increasingly fading vision. That bastard was still smiling all along.

"Nice try kid," he said while bringing his shotgun up. Shirou closed his eyes again. There was one final blast.

* * *

Archer watched from afar through his ACOG scope on his tan Bushmaster ACR. The small red chevron circled around with the slightest movement of the shoulder. His back was pressed onto the concrete wall of a vacant apartment. The torn white curtains fluttered without care. He reactivated his integrated heads up display, carefully managing his energy usage. He wasn't sure when he would be able to get an opportunity to recharge the batteries. Water, heat, and electricity were all gone from this place. He couldn't stay here for more than a few days.

He turned on the radio, seeing if he could glace for any useful information.

"Fuyuki City police are investigating the disappearance of five people yesterday night. Natsuko Hamaguchi, Hiroyuki Sato, Ken Williams, Naoki Tanaka, and Tadashi Sakai were last seen in Shinto, 5th neighborhood, block 9. If you have any information call-"

Archer switched the radio off. It wasn't as simple as five people vanishing into thin air. There was always something more to it. In any case, Archer was ready to go at the squeeze of the trigger. He scanned the area through his scope and focused on head full of purple hair with a magenta bow. Archer took a shallow breath in. Sakura Matou. He watched as she was walking down the crowded arcade with a bag of groceries in her hand. Her lavender dress fluttered in the wind.

A brief whistle was the only warning Archer got. The shockwave from the explosion knocked Archer back, nearly jamming the scope into his eye. He saw the white trails of smoke. They were no doubt RPG's. Groans and screams echoed in the streets below. Four red diamonds appeared on his HUD. He aimed at the first one on the rooftop and squeezed the trigger. He watched through the scope as he fell toward the ground.

Archer left the safety of the apartment and went to ground level, the danger zone. He had no choice as he found cover behind a low stone wall. The three remaining hostiles directed their fire at him, pinning him down. Arched hooked up a video feed to his sight and inched it over the wall. Moving the rifle to the left, he fired. Another hostile down.

He managed to see Sakura face down by the flower shop. She was badly wounded as a trail of blood marked where she traveled. After sending a few more bursts down, he broke cover and found another divider to take cover behind. Archer peeked through the hole caused by the RPG blast. He pulled his head back as rounds ricocheted past his head. He aimed down the ACOG scope and fired, sending another one to his death on the streets below.

As Archer sprinted to another shop, he felt something hard knock against his chest. He hoped the Kevlar did its job, but he didn't have time to worry about it. He aimed his ACR at the building at the end of the street and fired. Archer rushed over to Sakura and flipped her onto her back. At least her life signs were stable. He reached for a tube of morphine out of his thigh pocket and jabbed it onto Sakura's arm. He slung his rifle and carried Sakura up and over his shoulder. She needed treatment but he knew that paramedics wouldn't dare to enter a combat zone for several hours and the nearest hospital was too far away. At the very least, he could do some basic medical treatment.

Archer walked back into the street. Bodies were everywhere as he looked around, surveying the damage. More red diamonds appeared on his HUD. He needed to get out of here. He increased the power to his legs and took off. Another RPG flew past his shoulder. The hostiles were blocking the way to the nearest hospital, but Archer had another idea. He gambled on the slightest chance that she might be there, or if she wasn't, someone else was.

"I don't like trying to reason with her," Archer cursed. "But don't worry, Sakura. You'll be fine."

Archer's enhanced leg power was exhausted at the foot of the hill leading up to the Emiya mansion. He hoped he had enough to get to the Tohsaka Mansion but Emiya's would do fine. He just needed a friendly place to treat her. He started the climb. The weight of Archer's technical systems didn't help. Every step became harder but he made it to the walls of the Emiya mansion. He placed Sakura gently down onto the pavement. He grabbed a small charge out of his pocked and placed it against the wall. He ducked his head down and detonated it, creating a small hole just big enough to crawl through. Archer dragged Sakura through the hole and carried her over his shoulder again.

He walked into the house and put Sakura down in the living room. It looked the same since he last saw it, but his reminiscing was cut short as he detected prana. Rin's weak prana was nearby, then Shirou's, and then Arturia's. Archer slid open the door toward the courtyard. Arturia fell onto Archer's knee.

Surprised, Archer bent down. Arturia's camouflage jacket had a cluster of holes on her torso. Her back looked like it took a beating as well. A mixture of blood and dirt stained her face. "What the hell happened?" Archer asked.

"Archer?" Arturia looked up as she recognized Archer's voice. She coughed. "We were ambushed… Shirou… Rin…"

"Don't talk," Archer said. "I'll get you inside. Sakura's had a bad day as well."

After Archer dragged Arturia in and laid her to rest near Sakura, he looked around the courtyard. Holes littered the walls, the landscape was torn up, and Shirou and Rin were lying unconscious on the ground. Rin was slumped up against a rock. Her bruised and cut hands covered her torso. Skid marks streaked across where Rin tried to kick her way to cover. Shrapnel wounds were all across Shirou's arms, shoulders, and face. Archer figured he was going to have to spend a lot of time pulling metal from Shirou's body. It looked like a grenade blew up in his face.

He brought Rin outside of the elements first; and then Shirou afterward. He injected morphine and medical fluid into each of them. It was enough to stabilize their conditions. Archer breathed a sigh of relief. They were shot up quite a bit, but at least they weren't going to die.

Archer knew, like everyone else, another war had begun.

_- FINIS Chapter II_-

_Thank you to bloodgems, nanohaxfate, Phantom Kensai, David Alan Abramczyk, and rultas for reviewing!_

**Authors Notes: On Simo Hayha, Archer, and Japanese gun control...  
**

Unfortunately, most of the reliable resources on Simo Hayha on the internet are in Finnish and reliable English ones are few and far between. Most English resources are extremely superficial and focus more on his badass amount of no-scope kills. I do not know a word of Finnish and the Finnish sources easily give google translator a nasty headache. My version is a heavily dramatized rendition. I try to be as close to par with all the other historical servants with their historical accuracy and/or characterization.

Archer is based off the Future Force Warrior concept introduced by the United States Army, picked up by other countries, and have been featured in Ghost Recon: Advanced Warfighter and Ghost Recon: Advanced Warfighter 2. The Future Force Warrior concept envisions the radical use of technology to give the soldier a profound advantage over any enemy combatant he might face. Such technologies include 360 degree situational awareness, powered exoskeletons, advanced medical sensors, micro-climate cooling systems, and an advanced power system to power the whole thing. Archer is equipped with a Bushmaster ACR with a Trijicon ACOG scope. For the sake of this story, Archer's technological advantage will be limited because as we all know technology isn't perfect; nor does it work when we want it to at the most crucial moments.

Japanese gun control is one of the strictest in the democratic world. Japanese law is straightforward when it comes to guns as "No-one shall possess a fire-arm or fire-arms or a sword or swords" with few exceptions granted. The few exceptions are only granted after a lengthy licensing procedure. People that don't have a license can't even hold a gun in their hands.

Love it, hate it? Feedback? Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!

Until next time.


	3. Defilers of Fate

**Chapter III**

**Defilers of Fate**

**DISCLAIMER: **_All trademarks belong to their respective owners, including Fate/Stay Night to TYPE-MOON. I do not own a shred of anything outside my original characters and plot ideas._

Shirou awakened in the dim evening hours with the warmth of the futon underneath his body. He looked around in his darkened room. He was supposed to be in the courtyard, waiting to be dead and blown to pieces at point-blank range by a shotgun. If it was a dream, it was an excellently crafted one. He tried putting some energy into his arm to help him up. Shirou grunted and gritted as a dull, grinding pain crawled up his arm. He tried the same thing with his legs but it still gave him that grinding sensation, like his bones were rubbing directly against each other. Shirou breathed in the stale air into his lungs. His body was losing its balance. That agonizing sensation was migrating to his back.

"ARRGH," Shirou grunted. The incessant pain was not giving up, tormenting his body.

Arturia threw open the sliding door and turned on the light. "Shirou! What are you doing?"

A throbbing pain rocketed up to Shirou's head. He tried to bring his arm up in response, but that only caused more pain. "Ugh. What happened? Why am I in my room?"

Arturia caught Shirou as he collapsed into her arms. Instead of a complex bun, her hair was simply tied up. Shirou's head pressed lightly against Arturia's white, neatly pressed blouse. He liked how it felt crisp and smelled fresh, like it was just washed.

"Arturia, are you alright?" Shirou asked. The last time he saw her was when she was fighting that man with the shotgun.

"Please rest, Shirou," Arturia said as she helped Shirou back down onto the futon. "You were injured the most."

"How long was I out for?"

"A day and a half…"

"A day and a half…" Shirou repeated her words. Now that she mentioned it, he was beat up quite badly. He could've died being shot at point blank range by a shotgun. He lifted up his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. Other than a few bruises where gaping holes used to be, he'd be fine. But his body didn't agree to that. It could have been worse, a lot worse.

"I am relieved, Shirou," Arturia said with a soft smile.

The door to Shirou's room slid open. "Good evening, Shirou," Tohsaka said.

"Evening?" Shirou acknowledged. He looked at Tohsaka standing casually on the tatami mat. It looked like her injuries were gone. "Are you alright? Did you heal me as well?"

Rin shook her head. "You've got Archer to thank."

"Archer?"

As if on cue, Archer entered Shirou's room. Shirou looked at Archer suspiciously. Like Arturia, the flowing red cape and the complex black armor were replaced by drab patterns of tan and sage green multicam camouflage. The nametape on the right side of his chest simply said "ARCHER" in black letters. The dulled camouflage pants were tucked neatly into tan boots. The camoflage didn't seem to suit his grandiose aura. He had expected Archer to be someone different, someone completely different. Instead, it was the same Archer he knew from the previous Holy Grail war. He was probably armed with an assault rifle as well. Shirou didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Archer's brow creased annoyingly. "Glad to see someone's still alive," he said sarcastically.

"Why are you here?" Shirou asked suspiciously.

Archer shrugged. "It's pretty obvious… I got called up," he said. "I think it's awkward if we discuss it here."

"You're right. Give me a few minutes and I'll be right out," Shirou said.

Archer and Rin left Shirou's room. Rin made sure to slide the shoji door gently.

"You had me worried, Shirou," Arturia said timidly. "If Archer had not come, I do not know what would have happened to all of us."

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect everyone, Arturia. I was too weak," Shirou said.

"Do not say that, Shirou," Arturia said. "It is not your fault. We were all overpowered."

"Where's Sakura? Fuji-nee?"

Arturia looked away hesitantly. "Sakura was injured in the fighting…"

"Sakura was caught up in the all of this? Damn… is she alright?"

"She has already been treated. We have assured both of them that your condition is stable."

Shirou looked down. Whatever it was, Grail War or not, it was turning out far worse than he could have imagined. It seemed like it was targeting the people close to him for no reason. First Arturia and Rin, and now Sakura; it was in danger becoming too personal for him. They were all far better than him in terms of magical abilities. The fact that they were beaten so easily unsettled him. But one way or another, it had to work out.

"Can you help me up?" Shirou asked. "I can't keep them waiting."

"What about your injuries?"

"I'll be fine," Shirou said as Arturia helped him up. He tried taking a step forward. The pain hadn't gone away but it was still manageable.

Shirou and Arturia went to the living room where Rin and Archer were waiting for them. Rin was sitting on a cushion, sipping a cup of tea. Archer was sitting cross-legged across from Rin and yawned. His black assault rifle rested against one of the walls. He didn't even take off his boots. Since Archer saved their lives, Shirou could at least forgive his boorish lack of etiquette for now. At least his boots didn't look muddy.

Arched looked up. "Considering the amount of junk I pulled out of you, I'm surprised you can even walk," he said.

"Well, thanks," Shirou said reluctantly.

"You wanted to know why I'm here, right? Like I said before, I was called up and summoned. I don't know the details but I know it wasn't the Holy Grail. Rin shouldn't have command spells and neither should you."

"We know that," Rin said. "Do you have anything else?"

"Afraid not," Archer shrugged. "Except for this." He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "I managed to transcribe this. All I know it's from Caesar, I don't know if it means anything."

Rin took the paper and read it aloud. "'What we wish, we readily believe, and what we ourselves think, we imagine others think also. Don't believe everything you see.' Archer, this doesn't make any sense. What does Caesar have to do with this? Augustus? Could it be an allegory with Cierco? "

"What about winning?" Shirou asked.

"I don't know about winning," Archer shrugged. "To win is to outlast." Archer jerked his head to the side. "Even with Saber, you didn't last very long."

"Archer, have you seen anyone similar to our attacker?" Arturia asked.

"Nope," Archer said. "Even if I could detect them, they must be hiding their signatures very well. I know Rin couldn't detect them until it was too late."

"How many do you think there could be out there?" Rin asked.

Archer sighed. "To be honest, I don't know," he said. "As far as I know, there are probably one or two others. But with everything going on right now, there's bound to be more."

* * *

The master closed the the teal steel stairway door behind him. His breath condensed in the crisp, outside air. There was no moon tonight. Instead, the bright city lights of Shinto crept into his eyes. He peered down at the city below with a calm expression. He knew that sending innocent civilians to their death was an immoral thing to do. But if it meant staying alive in this world, he had to do it.

He brought out the partially disassembled pieces of an Arisaka Type 99 rifle out of a rucksack and put them back together. The mahogany stock had a few splinters in it and the barrel had a few chips on the end. He rotated the bolt backward and forward as it creaked slightly. He squirted some gun oil into the bolt. It probably had seen better days during the war but it would do fine for tonight.

"Here," He passed the rifle off to Iris. "You're going to be using this tonight."

Iris was unpacking her green Arctic Warfare "What about my Arctic Warfare, sir?"

"Use it as a backup. You're going to dispose this rifle after tonight. It's easier to track down an Accuracy International than an Arisaka."

He watched as Iris mounted a Zeiss scope to the aged bolt-action rifle. He noticed that her blonde, straight ponytail was going to stand out in this environment.

"You might want to have this as well," he said, handing her a black Chiba Lotte Marines baseball cap.

"Yes, sir," Iris said as she put the cap on back to front. She put on a pair of white headphones.

The master grabbed his binoculars, scanning the city streets below. A lot of people were out and about, strolling as if it was any normal night out. He knew he couldn't target them. Sparking uncontrollable chaos was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to kill as quick and as painless as possible. He used to kill for the whim of the state. It would be easy to refuse killing if he was working for some kind of shady organization. But to avoid tortuous mana starvation, there was no choice. It was despicable that he would have to resort to this. However, peering through a scope and pulling the trigger was the most efficient emotional separation between a murderer and his victim could get.

He picked out an old, grizzled man sitting down in an alleyway under bright fluorescent lights. He watched as the man huddled near his pile of belongings and blew into his worn hands.

"One and a half centimeters at 10 o'clock. Range, 150 meters. See that homeless person in the alleyway; next to the Lawson convenience store?"

"Target acquired."

"Whenever you're ready, take the shot."

The master heard the shot explode out of that antique rifle and saw it impact right on target. Headshot. Another human was vaporized, turned into useable mana. He heard Iris pulling the bolt back and sending it forward, ready for another target.

The master surveyed the streets below. He saw a woman that was clearly drunk, stumbling along the street with an open bottle of champagne in her hand.

"Half a centimeter at 2 o'clock. Range, 167 meters. See the woman with an open bottle of champagne? The one with the short brown hair?"

"Target acquired."

"Whenever you're ready, take the shot."

Another shot, another person vaporized.

The master looked around, "Two centimeters at 3 o'clock. Range, 190 meters. See that…" he brought his binoculars up. "Hold up. We've got company," he said, looking at a figure across the rooftops.

The lone figure stood on a ledge opposite from where Iris and the master were standing. His red and white keffiyeh was wrapped snugly around his head. He was dressed in a black, long sleeved shirt and matching black slacks. He held a Dragunov SVD sniper rifle in his hands. He turned toward them. The only thing visible to them were his amber eyes. The master looked at his haunting stare.

"What do you want… Juba?" the master bitterly acknowledged.

"You and I share extraordinary accomplishments, Simo," Juba said. "We have instilled fear into the most powerful regimes in history. You, the Soviets. Me, the Americans. Few people can rightfully claim that, am I right?"

"Save the history for later."

"I thought your student deserved to know that," Juba shrugged. "I see you've taught her well."

His figure disintegrated as a thin layer of mist descended onto the rooftops.

"Where on Earth?" Iris asked.

The master scanned the rooftops. He couldn't have traveled far and retreated. He wasn't the type to do that. He liked to travel to another spot and snipe. A slight breeze blew. The master knew he was trying something different. Instinctively, the master pushed Iris down onto the concrete rooftop. He pulled his puukko knife from his sheath and slashed it into the lifeless air. He knew someone was there; ready to kill them both at point blank range. Once he felt the blade hit, he pulled it back and thrust it with all his might.

"Oh my god…" Iris gasped.

The master's knife sank into flesh. He looked up. In front of him was a thin, middle aged woman with flowing black hair collapsing on his blade. She didn't look much shorter than him. His knife pierced her blue and white blouse at a diagonal angle. The knife she was holding dragged on the rooftop. As he pulled out the blade from her torso, her lifeless body fell with a sickening thud.

"Dear god…" he muttered as her body disintegrated into the night sky. The master gripped his knife tighter. She was probably under his control; as innocent as the people he sniped. He never expected him to do this.

Juba reappeared on another building across from them. A red aircraft warning beacon illuminated his slender figure. "Do you see it now? Your methods of killing are no more honorable than mine. You murder people. I murder people. No matter how much you want to deny it, we're both the same."

"I take my fair share, thanks."

"Sir," Iris spoke up. "Sensors detect a chemical attack to the west, Golf Bravo. The wind may blow it in our direction."

An awkward silence descended over the rooftop. "Don't tell me this was your work," the master said. He looked toward the aircraft beacon, but Juba was gone. The master pulled out his SAKO TRG and systematically looked all over the skyline, sweeping the Findot reticule from building to building. The master spotted him in an office window through his scope. Juba shrugged innocently, turned around, and walked out of sight.

"Shit. Get inside."

* * *

Mephistopheles stood aimlessly on the marble balcony as his master keenly looked down on the people moving about under his feet. He lit up a Parliament cigarette and puffed rings of smoke without care. His immaculately shined black dress shoes dragged against the ground with every shake of his foot. He wiggled the cigarette in his left hand, making sure to keep most of the ash from ruining the shine. It was a small break from being attached from every order he barked.

"Come Mephistopheles!" his master perked up. "Let's make a party with sarin!"

Mephistopheles pushed his glasses up. "Sarin?"

His master's face contorted as he pounded his fist. "Yes! Sarin!"

Mephistopheles sighed. His master was a blabbering idiot. From killing as enjoyable as murdering priests in their sleep to lunacy on the city; his existence was never dull. He had everything humanity had produced. Good, evil, regrettable, effective, dull... they were all at his fingertips. His master should at least have a basic understanding what a nerve agent was. This was going to be interesting.

He summoned a pair of gas masks and chemical suits in his hands. "Of course, master. I strongly recommend you put these on."

"What are these supposed to be for?"

"These are our party suits. Let us put them on and enjoy the fun."

They put on their chemical suits. Mephistopheles checked the seal on his gas mask and the seal on his master's. Once he was confident that none of the toxins would enter their masks, he waved his arm in the air. The drops of sarin were marked in red on his mask as he saw them drop in the vicinity. He saw one droplet splash on the concrete, another on the asphalt, and another in a tank full of seafood. The fumes started to rise as the sarin was evaporating into the night sky. They felt the breezes blowing and dispersing it farther away from them like a lethal cloud.

Almost immediately, he saw people twitch and hold their heads in pain. The miserable, deathly sounds of coughing, choking, and gagging, reverberated through the night. More of his victims were vomiting and clutching their chests in pain. He watched coolly as the sarin was interfering with their nervous systems, making them twitch and squirm like pathetic mice on the ground below. Death would soon follow. Since his gas mask could hide his glee better, Mephistopheles was truly enjoying this scene. He looked over to his master, who was taken aback by his surroundings.

"What is the matter, master? I am sure this is had what you wanted. The people down below us are displaying the classic symptoms of sarin exposure."

"Can you call it off, like it never even happened?"

This was the worst way to spoil some fun. "I am afraid not," he said. "If you wish to limit the number of casualties, your best option would be to wait 24-48 hours for the sarin to disperse. Otherwise, you will endanger many more lives than if you would have had it contained."

Mephistopheles watched as his master gripped the handrail tightly. "What about an antidote?"

"This country has enough vaccinations. It will take roughly the same amount of time to cover all of the infected areas."

"So people will die?"

He stared through the red-marked haze on his gas mask. "That is always a possibility. Pure sarin can kill within a minute. However, since the sarin has probably mixed with other chemicals by this time, I'd say death would occur within an hour, maybe half, depending on the person."

"Can't you save these people?"

"Do not be ridiculous, master," he gestured. "You asked for it. I can influence many things, but I am not God."

His master looked away, mumbling something Mephistopheles couldn't understand. He glanced over his shoulder. Something… no, someone had crossed into his area. He could sense the energy that radiated from them. They weren't normal, they were magi. He was confident that with the sarin and his submachine gun, he could take them down. He didn't want anybody spreading word that he caused all this. More importantly, any confident magus could easily neutralize the sarin cloud.

"Here," he said as he took his Glock 19 pistol and gave to his master. "The sarin should deter most, but use this if you need to."

He took out his black MP7 from his coat and pushed the front grip forward. "Please stay here, master. I suggest you to stay indoors, as I plan to do some shooting. "

He jumped onto the railing and kicked off, leaping onto another railing, and onto the flat roof of another building. He looked around and saw what he was looking for. Focused on his target and oblivious to the difficulties of adjusting to a gas mask, he sprinted from rooftop to rooftop. They were ready to be devoured. Whatever the outcome, he was prepared to accept his fate tonight.

* * *

Shirou and Arturia were walking down the middle of the street. The bright lights tempted them as the shops were still open in the evening. She was grateful Shirou was still alive. Whatever Archer might have put into him was doing a good job. She was beginning to enjoy these walks around town, especially when Shirou was by her side. He was carrying a bag of groceries, including a jar of jam. She wasn't about to let him get killed over a simple thing like that.

Shirou rested his hand on Arturia's shoulder. "You didn't have to come," he said.

"I know," Arturia faintly smiled. "But you were injured and…"

"And?"

"And I am curious to know which ingredients make your cooking so well."

Shirou and Arturia stopped as they heard the sound of people moaning and coughing. The miserable sounds made their hearts sink. Arturia noticed as the sounds increasingly became louder and more frequent. They saw the throng of bodies up ahead. Whoever did this was despicable. She instantly changed to her camouflage and summoned a gas mask into her hand.

"This place has been contaminated," she said, putting her gas mask on.

"With what?"

"I do not know, but I am sure it has affected a lot of people. I feel like only a magus could have done this."

She knew something was lurking there in the shadows, approaching. First a chemical attack and now a powerful magical spirit was coming near them. Arturia was certain that it wasn't a servant, but she couldn't figure out what it was either. In any case, she couldn't ignore it as it came too close for comfort.

"Run, Shirou!" Arturia yelled through the gas mask.

Shots rang out as Arturia and Shirou dodged the rounds and made their way to cover. She peeked out behind a brick wall and saw a man in a chemical suit with a gas mask on sprinting across the street, strafing their position.

She summoned another gas mask and gave it to Shirou. "Here," she said. "Put it on. I'll find you later, just go! It is too dangerous here!"

She managed to catch a glimpse of Shirou running away, finding cover nearby. The last thing she wanted was Shirou being caught in the crossfire.

She sprinted to another wall, facing her attacker. She braced herself against a wall and peeked behind cover. Arturia raised her L85A2 assault rifle up. However, it was difficult to aim as the soft blur of the mask made it difficult to see properly. Breathing in the filtered, stale air didn't help either. While the mask would protect her from inhaling the lethal gases, trying to fight and move around in it would take its toll on her. She instinctively squeezed off a few rounds, but they went soaring into the night sky.

Her attacker disappeared into some of the alleyways. Artruria tried to chase him but relying on the excruciatingly filtered air was exhausting. She ducked inside an electronics shop and went up to the second floor. She loosened the gas mask and took a few gulps of precious fresh air. She had underestimated trying to fight him in such a challenging environment, where the air she breathed was taken for granted. But one way or another, she was going to finish this. Arturia wiped the sweat off her face with her camouflage jacket before tightening the mask up again. She checked the seal and headed back out.

She swept her assault rifle in every direction. Every noise made her on edge as she sometimes snapped around, trying desperately not to be caught off guard. She couldn't see him or detect his presence. He had escaped. It was a bad idea to pursue him. If she pursued him further, he would have baited her into a well orchestrated trap. He probably knew the layout of the area far better than her. It was a good time to find Shirou again and head back home to tell Rin and Archer what happened. She ran through the alleyways, trying to find him.

* * *

Shirou stopped running. He couldn't take it anymore. Breathing through the mask was too much for him. The moaning and coughing all around him relentlessly tormented him through his mask. The sight of bodies lying on the pavement agonized him deep down inside. He wanted to mercilessly punish the person who did this. More importantly, he wanted to save everyone. But he knew he couldn't do either. There must have been hundreds, or even thousands of people that were affected by the chemical attack. He didn't want to think about how many people had died.

He took off his gas mask, begging for fresh air. After walking for a few more feet, Shirou bent over and vomited. The nightmare all around him was too surreal. He looked up and saw a body slumped face first on the sidewalk. The short brown hair, the yellow and black striped shirt… Shirou had a very bad feeling about this. He hoped it wouldn't be her. He stumbled to the body and managed to flip it over.

He looked at her in horror,

"Fuji-nee…"

_- FINIS Chapter III_-

_Thank you to nanohaxfate, gdouglas56, rultas, and Jack for reviewing!_

**Authors Note: Iris, Juba, Sarin... oh my...  
**

Iris is based off of Iris of eponymous character of Material Sniper, a free flash game which will cause any a distracted college student like myself to waste a good chunk of time on disarming bombs with an Arctic Warfare Police sniper rifle. In the spirit of Iris' outfit changing with every mission, her outfits will probably change as well. Just do a google search and be prepared to waste time. Damn windage... you have been warned.

Juba is the pseudonym of a sniper involved in the Iraqi insurgency. Whether "Juba" is a real individual or a nickname comprised of multiple shooters is unknown. In several propaganda videos circulated over the internet, he is featured shooting at American soldiers. He claims to have shot 645 American soldiers but none of them are confirmed. Two of the three videos are attributed to the Islamic Army in Iraq. Juba has been portrayed in Carlos Latuff's, _Tales of Iraq War, _which serves as an inspiration for his characterization and appearance. For the sake of this story, Juba will be treated as a single individual.

Sarin (NATO designation: GB, hence Golf Bravo) is a nerve agent, interfering with the body's nervous system. Some of the symptoms are mentioned above. In ideal circumstances, pure sarin can kill an average adult in minutes in a drop the size of a pinhead. Of course, in the real-world with a ton of variables involved, nothing is ideal, predictable, or guaranteed. I've tried to keep that in mind while trying to come up with a chemical attack. Sarin is not easy to make pure and disperse it in a way to guarantee instant death. The Sarin gas attack on the Tokyo Subway in 1995 was probably the most famous use of Sarin. Over 6,000 people were affected, 50 severely, and 13 people died in the attack. For obvious reasons, sarin is classified as a weapon of mass destruction and is banned by the Chemical Weapons Convention of 1993.

Love it, hate it? Feedback? Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!

Until next time.


	4. Exhorters of Fate

**Chapter IV**

**Exhorters of Fate**

**DISCLAIMER: **_All trademarks belong to their respective owners, including Fate/Stay Night to TYPE-MOON. I do not own a shred of anything outside my original characters and plot ideas._

Shirou clenched his fists. He looked down at the unconscious figure of Fuji-nee lying motionless on the ground. Whatever the conflict was, it had crossed that line. It was something that he could no longer ignore. The scenes of so many people affected, even the ones closest to him, were firmly ingrained into his head. A light breeze blew onto his back as he heard the sirens blare off in the distance.

Boots raced frenetically on the pavement. Shirou turned around, expecting a fight. He raised his fists and glared at the figure approaching him. There was no turning back. He would gladly be beaten to death rather than abandoning Fuji-nee.

"Who's there?" he challenged.

"Shirou. It is me," Arturia said. "Are you all right?"

Shirou looked down. "Yeah, I'm fine." He struggled to maintain his composure. "Fuji-nee…"

"Fujimura-sensei? I am so sorry, Shirou. What happened to her?"

"I don't know. What happened to him?"

"Our attacker? He got away. He would have set up an elaborate trap if I pursued him."

"We heard the gunshots," Rin said, arriving with Archer close behind. "What happened?"

"We're fine. We were attacked," Shirou said. "He got away though. I found Fuji-nee."

"I would not touch her though," Arturia suggested. "She may be contaminated."

"Don't worry. I can decontaminate myself afterward," Archer reassured her. He kneeled down, examining Fuji-nee's vital signs. "She'll be fine," Archer said. "She's still breathing and there are no signs that her condition will destabilize. Rin, I think it's best if the authorities handle it."

"What are you talking about?" Shirou asked. "Can't you heal her, Tohsaka?"

"What do you want me or Rin to do? Make her walk again right this second?" Archer said. "Don't be ridiculous. If she's been exposed to chemical or biological agents, there's little I can do.

The loud cracking of gunfire interrupted their conversation. Shirou and Arturia crouched behind a pair of concrete barrier as shots whizzed over their heads.

"We'll take care of Fujimura-sensei!" Rin shouted. "Just get to better cover!"

Shirou watched through a narrow gap in the barriers as Archer carried Fuji-nee on his back, with Rin close behind. They managed to get into a shop from across the street. As the gunfire stopped, Shirou took a moment to catch his breath.

"Rin is right. This will not sustain us for much longer," Arturia said. "Can you follow me, Shirou?"

"Yeah, I can," Shirou nodded.

Arturia rushed to a brick wall, with Shirou not far behind. Since his feet were sore, he sat down for a while. Looking across the street, he saw Archer and Rin safely behind cover. He saw Archer raise his ACR assault rifle.

"Halt!" Archer yelled. "Who goes there? Identify yourself!"

Arturia stood slightly out of cover and raised her L85A2 assault rifle as well.

"Halt!" Archer repeated, yelling louder. "Or I will shoot!"

As soon as Archer opened fire, Arturia did as well. A torrent of gold fire raced down the street. The noise was incredible as it echoed louder off the buildings.

"I think I got him!" Archer shouted over.

The shooting ceased, with Archer and Artruia lowering their weapons. With the amount of fire, Shirou was sure they got whoever it was as well.

The earth trembled under his ungainly steps as the giant figure laughed mockingly into the night, shrugging whatever injury he might've had like nothing happened. His short, dirty-blonde hair was roughly cut. The roughened wood and blackened steel PKM machine gun was waved frenetically in the air by his muscular arms. He yanked back the charging handle with brutal efficiency. Shirou managed to get a glimpse of his menacing hazel eyes and his scarred face.

"I want to fight somebody, master!" he roared.

"Now where are your manners, Bogatyr?" a feminine voice chimed in. A figure came forward from the shadows. Her pale blonde hair rested gently on a scarlet coat that complimented her slender figure. Grey felt boots skipped lightly in the middle of the street. Cerulean eyes contrasted with her pale, almost snow white face.

She stood alongside Bogatyr, placing her diminutive hand on his arm. "While my Bogatyr forgoes refined introductions, I am Katerina iz Veliky Novgorod."

Bogatyr rattled his gun. "Are you done yet?"

"Energetic are we tonight?" Katerina's lips formed a thin smile. "Go get them, Bogatyr!"

Bogatyr stepped forward, put the PKM against his chest, and fired. He swept the machine gun slowly in a wide arc, intent on causing as much destruction as possible. Shirou and Arturia crouched down and found cover behind some parked cars. Shirou watched as Arturia returned fire around cover. Bogatyr's fire clanged against some of the cars. The glass shattered; sending fragments all over the pavement.

Arturia tugged on Shirou's shirt. "Shirou! Follow me!"

Shirou nodded. Arturia stood up from cover and ran across the sidewalk, with Shirou following close behind. They stopped underneath a neon white and red pachinko sign. Sensing a pause in the fire, Shirou peeked out from his concrete cover. He noticed that the barrel on Bogatyr's PKM was glowing red hot. Holes and dents littered the urban landscape before him. Shards of broken glass were everywhere. The car he and Arturia were hiding behind moments earlier had gone up in flames. He got a taste of the acrid smoke.

One of the rounds nearly grazed his chin. Shirou pulled his head back in. "Where's Tohsaka?" he said.

"I do not know," Artruia said with a pained expression. "They must have split off."

Shirou looked around. He saw Archer and Rin across the street being pinned down behind cover. Archer fired more bursts out of his ACR assault rifle. Rin was sitting with her back against the wall, with her legs extended. She was pressing her thigh with a pained expression on her face. Shirou figured that she must have been shot. He looked on in amazement as she extended one of her bloodstained hands around cover. Emerald balls of magical energy erupted from her fingertips.

The shooting seemed to stop for a moment. "Stay back, Shirou," Arturia said, lowering her L85A2 assault rifle. "I will try to help them."

Shirou watched as Arturia broke from cover. Her boots stomped heavily on the pavement. Bogatyr grunted and started shooting again. Arturia took cover behind another concrete building. Sparks flew as Bogatyr's shots hit fluorescent lights.

A murderous bang and a deafening boom interrupted the firefight. Shirou recoiled as he felt the blast wave impact his body. Strangely, he didn't feel anything fly into him. He was sure a bomb went off somewhere in the vicinity. The shooting stopped. Whatever it was, he was saved. He was sure he was safe.

"ARCHER!" Tohsaka screamed.

If Tohsaka screamed that loud, he couldn't imagine the scene that would meet him if he dared to look. He inched around, fearing the worst. A giant crater was in the middle of the street. Archer had been thrown backward onto the sidewalk, with his back against the wall. Some of the shrapnel had ripped into his arm. Some pieces were sticking out of his chest but it didn't look like he was bleeding. Shirou figured he must of have been wearing some kind of unusually strong body armor.

Arturia was standing in front of a stunned Bogatyr. Another blast tore into the street. Shirou watched in mute disbelief as Arturia was knocked sideways in the air and landed violently on the ground. Her body was showered with debris and her assault rifle scraped helplessly onto the pavement. Shirou ran toward where Arturia laid. Fresh blood trickled across her forehead and dripped onto the asphalt. She sat up a bit and coughed up some blood.

"Ugh," she grunted, trying to force herself up.

Shirou knelt down. "Don't. You're injured."

He sensed Bogatyr's arm moving up. He grabbed Arturia's assault rifle and pointed it in front of him. He clutched it against his shoulder. "Get him away from here!"

Katerina pointed her black CZ75 at Shirou. "Can't you see I'm trying to treat my Bogatyr? You're ridiculous! You want to continue this battle while your partner is lying on the ground?"

"Oh? How exciting. It's not even time yet and people are fighting already," a cheerful voice permeated through the night.

Katerina turned around. "Einzbern…" she said bitterly, gripping her pistol tighter.

Shirou couldn't believe it. "What?" He raised the assault rifle up and looked through the SUSAT sight. Ilya was standing on the roof of an office tower. Her purple coat and white hair swayed effortlessly in the night. In her hands was a Denel NTW20 anti-materiel rifle with its barrel hanging precariously off the side of the building. Ilya effortlessly swung the rifle upright and stood it on its buttstock while holding onto the bipod with only one hand. The rifle looked like it was a meter taller than her.

"Ilya," Shirou wondered in disbelief. "What the hell is she doing?"

"I am Illyasviel von Einzbern," she explained with forced grace. "I will be the moderator of the Rota Fortunae event. You are each very lucky to be selected to compete. A 36-hour ceasefire will be in effect starting immediately," she said with a hint of disappointment on her face. She smiled contently. "After that, you are free to do pretty much whatever you want, but it's boring without people shooting each other. If you don't play nicely, I have a magazine of shots for each one of you."

"I don't understand," Katerina said. "What's the meaning of all of this?"

"That's for you to find out," Ilya said coyly.

Ilya's eyes narrowed as she disappeared into the night sky. "I'll be watching…"

Katerina turned around. "Your team fought well. What's your name?"

Shirou lowered the assault rifle. "Emiya Shirou."

"I'm sure we'll see each other again on the battlefield, Emiya Shirou." Katerina rested her hand on Bogatyr's arm. "Come Bogatyr, we'll live to fight another day," she said, leaving with Bogatyr.

Shirou refocused his attention back on Arturia. He ripped off part of a sleeve from his shirt and wiped it over Arturia's forehead. Shirou turned her over onto her back and dragged her a few feet so her head could rest on the curb. Shrapnel ripped into her camouflage blouse and trousers. Kneeling down, he tried to ignore the pools of blood on the asphalt.

Arturia rested her arm on her torso. "Shirou," she coughed. "I am sorry…"

"No. You did fine," Shirou encouraged her. "Hang on for a bit, I'll get Tohsaka."

As Shirou stood up, he felt his knees buckle from underneath him. The world around him was appearing blurry and shaky. His heart raced as his head was spinning faster and faster. He was breathing harder with every step he tried to take. It was like his body didn't want to obey even taking a single step. His vision blacked as he felt like his body was falling.

"Shirou!" was the last thing he heard.

* * *

Shirou awakened to find himself walking down a narrow street. High, darkened brown stone buildings were on both sides. He walked along the cobblestone street. Snow fell lightly around him. His breath condensed in the snappy air. It seemed like Europe in the middle of winter to him. He knew he wasn't in Japan anymore.

Gunshots cracked through the air as Shirou ran to seek cover. Looking up, he saw golden tracers blazing in the distance. He felt the blast wave of an explosion off in the distance. When he turned around, he saw enormous clouds of dust being thrown into the air. He raced down the street some more, eager to get away from the shelling.

He stopped in front of a pile of rubble between two stone houses. He saw a middle-aged man in a tweed coat sitting on the curb, gripping a tattered burgundy photo album covered with dust in front of what used to be his home. His neighbors stood beside him, trying to comfort him.

"I lived here for 25 years," he cried. "My family has gone abroad. I want to join them," he sobbed.

Shirou wanted to say something but he couldn't. He started running again as he felt more shells explode all around him. He looked up and saw more tracers coming down from the mountains. Shirou walked to catch his breath. He looked up. Underneath a browned sky was a line of tattered people standing in front of charcoal houses.

"Don't give up! I'm sure things will get better," a woman said.

"Bullshit!" another woman bitterly spat. "We've had no water or electricity for six months! And now we don't have enough food or heat! How much longer can this insanity last?"

"Europe has completely forgotten all about us," another woman said.

Shirou breathed in but all he could inhale was the overpowering stench of death and burning around him. He stumbled down the street and into another building. What he saw shocked him. Children were lying on makeshift hospital beds with their legs, arms, or even both wrapped in bandages. Their faces contorted in pain as the doctor tried to treat them. He couldn't imagine who could have done all of this.

"Where did this happen?" the doctor asked.

"Near the plaza," someone replied. "They shelled a school."

"Damn."

A whistle was the only warning before the whole building shook. Everyone screamed loudly as lots of things fell onto the ground. The building groaned loudly. It sounded like it was going to collapse at any minute.

"We have got to evacuate the children!" the doctor ordered. He pointed to one of the nurses. "Miroslava! See if you can find a place across the street! " He pointed at Shirou. "You! I don't know who you are but you look strong enough! Take the girl in front of you! Let's go!"

Shirou looked at her. Her long blonde hair and green eyes reminded him strongly of Aruturia. He put his arm behind her back and reached underneath her knees, making sure not to touch or hit her bandaged leg. He saw the nurse across the street, ducked his head down, and ran over. After handing her off, he proceeded to do it again.

Shirou felt something hard hit his head as he collapsed while running. His arms took much of the impact as his body slid to a violent stop. He raised his hand up to his forehead and felt something warm flowing out. His vision turned red as muffled screams filtered into his ears. Focusing across the street, he saw a crudely, handwritten sign that read "Pazi – Snajper!"

His vision turned to black. He was reluctant to die again.

* * *

Shirou felt the warmth on his face as he woke up on the middle on his futon. He allowed his blurry vision to refocus. It was her white blouse and blue skirt again. He caught a glimpse of her untied hair. He turned his head. Arturia was kneeling beside him, wringing out a fresh washcloth over the washbowl. The water dripping slowly off of Arturia's hands was a pleasant change from the frenzied gunfire of last night.

Arturia placed the cold washcloth on Shirou's forehead. "Shirou. Thank goodness you are awake."

"Arturia," Shirou said. "What happened? Why-"

"I do not know why, but you fainted."

"I see. But what's the washcloth for? I don't have a fever or anything."

"When I checked earlier this morning, you were sweating profusely," Arturia said worryingly.

Shirou suppressed his embarrassment. It was a shame that Artruia had to go through something like this again. Despite Arturia doing most of the fighting, it wasn't fair that he was the one that was routinely spoiled like this. Shirou raised his arm, sifted his way through her hair, and gently rested the back of his hand onto Arturia's cheek. She shifted slightly at first, but she gradually got accustomed to it.

"I'm assuming your injuries are all healed, right?" Shirou said with concern.

"For the most part," Arturia said. "I still maintain some of the qualities of a heroic spirit."

"But you're not a servant. You don't have to take care of me all the time."

Arturia raised her hand and interlocked her fingers with Shirou's hand. "Do not argue with me, Shirou. Servant or not, I do this because I choose to."

Arturia guided Shirou's hand back down. Shirou smirked slightly. "Fine, you win."

Shirou rubbed his thumb in a circular motion on the back of Arturia's hand as Arturia gently placed her free hand on top of Shirou's. He relaxed and stared at the ceiling for a few moments, easily satisfied by the person next to him. Arturia raised her hand up to cover her yawn. Shirou looked at her drooping eyelids and her slightly shifting body. He couldn't take it anymore. It was obvious to him like she was tired. She tried to stifle a yawn escaping from her lips.

"Don't tell me you haven't gotten much sleep," Shirou commented.

"Not enough," Arturia admitted. "But I will rest once you are fully recovered."

Shirou sat up and pried the washcloth from his head. He folded it into a neat square and hung it over the the washbowl's edge. He stood up, rotated his shoulders back, and snapped his neck to the side. He changed into a new shirt. Any sense of dizziness or fainting was nearly gone to him.

"I'll be fine," he said flatly as he walked toward the shoji door. "Get some rest, Arturia. You've been shot at more times than me."

Shirou managed to get the door halfway open. "But Shirou- " Arturia interrupted him.

He raised an eyebrow, fighting the temptation to break his composure. "If I had a command spell, I'd use it right now."

"Hmph. You are terrible," Arturia pouted.

"Anyway, I have got to talk to Tohsaka about this Rota Fortunae thing," Shirou explained. "Unless you have anything on it. It's not like it's a Grail War after all."

"I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about."

"I thought so," Shirou said. "Please get some more sleep. You need it more than I do. Love you."

Arturia's stern expression softened. She smiled gently. "I love you, Shirou."

Shirou closed the shoji door quietly. That image of Ilya standing on a rooftop with an enormous rifle proclaiming that she was the moderator of a contest he had never heard about was still engrained in his head. It was scary that she now had the power to shred anyone to pieces whenever she felt like it. Worse still, Arturia didn't know anything about it either, despite fighting in two Holy Grail wars. He hoped Tohsaka knew what was going on at least. He walked over to the guesthouse where Tohsaka was staying.

Shirou knocked on the door. "Tohsaka, it's me," he said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Come in, Emiya-kun," Rin replied. She was sitting at her desk with multiple books open and heavily bookmarked. She sipped a cup of her tea. "You came at the right time. I'm happy to let you know that Fujimura-sensei is recovering at a hospital."

She paused, waiting for the door to click shut behind Shirou. She pounded her fist on the desk. "YOU IDIOT! Why didn't you tell us that sarin was in the area?"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

Rin sighed irritably. "Why don't you ask Arturia beforehand? Magus aren't totally immune from it either. You're lucky Archer and I know how to deal with it!"

"Well thanks," Shirou said. "I guess…"

"You guess," Rin retorted. "You're probably here to ask me about Rota Fortunae aren't you?"

"Yeah. You're right."

"Well, it was rumored to have been created in the mid-1700's as an unofficial alternative to the Holy Grail War. Details are sketchy but it is said that they used whatever weapons were accessible at the time, usually firearms. If the Grail Wars were a highly organized fight between magical families, then Rota Fortunae was compared to a barfight brawl where anybody could participate. The Church didn't admit it even existed until 1938."

"When was the last one?"

"It was held in Novosibirsk that year. It ended abruptly with no clear winner. It's rumored that the Church was involved with the help of the Kuznetsov family. As far as I know, they died out during the Soviet purges."

"So… what happens during Rota Fortunae?"

"Anything can happen. I don't even know how many more masters or heroic spirits are out there."

"You're telling me the only thing I can do is expect the unexpected?"

Rin shrugged. "That's the best advice I would give right now. But what about Ilya? What does she have to do in all of this?"

"She's the moderator… and she can blow us all to pieces."

"I know that, idiot," Rin said irritably. "I can't figure out why Ilya was chosen. Einzbern wasn't one of the names that were listed. I know it's only speculation but it's said that the winner would be granted the power to influence or control certain events in the future."

"I don't see where you're trying to tell me, Tohsaka."

"I'm saying that Ilya or anyone else could gain access to something more powerful than wish granting, and possibly more powerful than sorcery," Rin explained. "If I'm right, that person could also influence when and where future Holy Grail wars could be fought."

For Shirou, that was a scary thought. "Are you sure about this?"

"Like I said, it's only speculation. I'm just going off of rumors here."

"Thanks, Tohsaka. I'll be sure to tell Arturia about it."

"Please do, Emiya-kun." Rin sipped some more tea. "Don't you want to know why you blacked out?"

Shirou nearly forgot about it. "That was quick. Let me hear it."

"I'm sure that the weapons Archer and Arturia carry need a proportionate amount of prana from the magi to fire. I noticed that whenever Archer was shooting for a long time, it was consuming my prana. Since you were caught up in two firefights in a short amount of time, I figured that you consumed more prana faster than your body could handle."

"Do you want me to avoid fighting?"

"I'm not asking you to avoid fighting altogether," Rin explained. "But remember to choose your battles wisely."

"Got it," Shirou responded. He caught a glimpse of Rin's miniature clock. "Do you want me to cook something, Tohsaka?"

Rin perked up. "Oh, it's that time? I didn't even notice. I'll cook, it's my turn anyway."

Shirou was puzzled. "Are you sure? Aren't you still recovering?"

"Eh? What are you talking about, Emiya-kun? I've got this."

"But Tohsaka-"

Rin sighed. "Emiya Shirou, you're arguments never get you anywhere."

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair as Shirou and Rin tried to unwind from a hectic night. He didn't want to ask too much about Archer. Rin had lousy day as well and Shirou wasn't sure if she was still pissed off over that sarin bit he failed to mention. He turned on the television, hoping for some good news.

"Official casualty figures from the Fuyuki City sarin attack have yet to be determined. However, it is confirmed that at least 100 people have died from exposure, with the death toll expecting to rise. JGSDF and American forces are currently stationed in the area," Shirou read.

"American forces?" Rin said. "Never thought they would come in."

Shirou got up and turned the television off. He figured it was going to be the telling the same thing even if he kept watching.

"Are you going to fight, Tohsaka?" Shirou said.

"That's a stupid question," Rin answered. "You saw what she did to Archer. Of course I'm going to fight. What about you, Emiya-kun?"

"I want to, but I'm going to ask Arturia first and see what she thinks.

"That's hardly necessary. I'm sure she'll agree to it."

After dinner, Shirou washed the plates before they retreated for the night. Shirou sat by the porch, opening the sliding doors to let the breeze come in. He looked up at the hazy sky, unsure of what would happen next. A light breeze trickled in, gently patting against Shirou's forehead. He wasn't sure of anything either. He'd be fighting in something that even the great Tohsaka Rin didn't know too much about. He sighed. He didn't know what he was getting into, but after seeing Arturia and Fuji-nee lying on the ground helpless like that, he couldn't just sit back.

He heard the shoji door slide open. He turned around and saw Arturia standing there.

"Hey," he smiled. "How was your nap?"

"It was fine, Shirou," Arturia said, pulling her hair back behind her ears and tying a loose ponytail. She sat down next to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing much. Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something?"

"No. I am fine," Arturia said. She kissed Shirou on his cheek. "Thank you, though."

Shirou blushed as Arturia moved closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. She must have gotten out of the shower earlier as Shirou could barely resist the fresh smell emanating from her hair.

"The sky looks too gray," Arturia commented.

"Yeah, you're right," Shirou agreed. "Arturia?"

"Yes?"

"Even though I don't know too much about it, I want to fight in whatever this Rota Fortunae event is."

"Are you sure about this, Shirou?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, Arturia," Shirou said, looking up at the sky. "I just can't sit back like this, while you and Fuji-nee are being hurt like that."

"If you are sure, then I will fight with you. Not as a servant, but as a peer," Arturia said. "Like before, my sword will be yours."

_That will not change._

_- FINIS Chapter IV_-

_Thank you to rultas and fanityfan for reviewing! A bigger thank you to fanityfan for the copious amounts of Simo Hayha information!  
_

**Authors Note: Because this chapter was probably the hardest to write... and now for something completely different!  
**

Bogatyr is Vasily Buslaev (Russian: Василий Буслаев), a famous character in the bylina (tradition epic, heroic narrative poem) of Novgorod. Quick and dirty version of it is, he grows up tired of education, becomes a street brawler, loves feasting and drinking, becomes mayor because from winning a massive fight, conquers all the ethnic groups, goes to the Holy Land to repent, and died while jumping over a rock. Keen readers will also note that Katerina is also from Novgorod. This is not coincidental.

The Denel NTW20x110mm Hispano is the most powerful sniper rifle that is currently in service today (if it can be called that). Most Halo: Combat Evolved junkies will find this gun oddly familiar as the sniper rifle is based off, if not copied from, this rifle. It's total length is over 2m (6ft) long and weighs from 26-31.5kg (57-69lbs). It is normally chambered for a 20x82mm Mauser, 14.5x144mm Russian, or a 20x110mm Hispano-Suiza round normally used in cannons fired from vehicles. For comparison, a .50BMG is 12.7x99mm. Effective range is well over 1,800m (over 1.1miles) and I'd imagine the bullet being lethal to over 5000m (3.1 miles). Simply put, this is a do not mess with, take no prisoners rifle. Yes, I know the Barrett XM109 exists, but it is still in development and there are no youtube videos of it in action.

Shirou's dream scene was based off of accounts during the Siege of Sarajevo, which lasted from April 1992 to February 1996. A total blockade was established in May 1992. The most difficult part was probably between late 1992 and early 1993. Imagine a city of around 300,000 people being surrounded, cut off from food, water, and heat with the Serbian Army shelling you from the hilltops. An estimated 10,000 civilians were killed during the siege, with about 56,000 wounded.

Love it, hate it? Feedback? Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!

Until next time.


	5. Fate's Threshers

**Chapter V**

**Fate's Threshers**

**DISCLAIMER: **_All trademarks belong to their respective owners, including Fate/Stay Night to TYPE-MOON. I do not own a shred of anything outside my original characters and plot ideas._

The master stared intensely down the scope. The fine crosshairs steadied as he held his breath. The pine branches rustled. The wind calmed. All he heard was his slow, controlled breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat on par with the most precise of metronomes. He squinted through the scope one last time and started to pull the trigger.

The master froze his index finger and inched it forward off the trigger. He was relieved that it didn't go off. He heard voices. Turning around, the master scanned through his scope, sweeping it through the tress. He saw two gunmen in black windbreakers trudging up the hill with AK-74's in their hands. Bright orange magazines contrasted against the trees.

He lay prone and observed them closely; his fine crosshairs hovering over their every move. Even though their lips were moving, he couldn't tell what they were saying. Their rough brown beards moved up and down. One of them spat on the ground. Hints of vodka permeated through the air. They looked like Russians, acted like Russians, and even smelled like Russians.

As they walked up to the door, assault rifles in hand, the master held his breath and pulled the trigger straight back. As the first one disintegrated into thin air, he worked the bolt-action on the TRG. He shifted the sniper rifle to the right and fired again.

He looked around for a few minutes. After making sure he wasn't being targeted, he got up and crouched down, conscious of every step he took.

His back pressed up against the wall. He knocked on the door. "Iris, it's me. Open the door."

The door opened barely wide enough for the master and his rifle to squeeze through. He set the sniper rifle against the wall. Iris crouched under the window with her black Browning Hi-Power in her hands.

"I heard gunshots. Was that you, sir?"

"Yeah. Can't take chances on Ruskies with assault rifles. Grab your Arctic Warfare. There may be more coming."

Iris nodded and went to grab her sniper rifle. The master grabbed his sniper rifle, extended the bipod, and set it on the table. He sat down on the oak chair, aiming the sniper rifle through the window. A purple orb appeared in his scope. He took his eye off the scope and saw it coming toward him. His finger rested above the trigger, unsure of what to do.

As the orb got closer, he had no choice. He fired twice. Even though he hit it twice, it stubbornly advanced like nothing affected it. He shot it again repeatedly, hoping anything could take it down. Despite his efforts, it still advanced.

He looked up away from the scope. "What the hell is that?"

It passed through the shattered window he shot through and exploded. The master raised his arms, shielding himself from the overwhelming torrent of light. A slight burning sensation flooded his body. He endured it as something began to tug him.

The master opened his eyes and looked around. A thin layer of snow sprinkled the tall, evergreen pines. The snow compacted under his feet. His breath condensed in the bitterly cold air. The sun struggled to rise above the dense taiga forest. It seemed strangely familiar to him. Everything around him reminded him of the Finnish lines near Kollaa. Nostalgia seemed nice but he didn't understand why he was here.

"Where are we?" Iris said.

Columns of smoke rose in the distance, contrasting against the winter sun. Gunshots and artillery crackled and popped from afar. The unmistakable smell of burning diesel and petrol wafted into his nostrils. It smelled unmistakably of war.

He didn't see his sniper rifle nor did he feel the weight of it anywhere on his body. Bringing his hand up to his waist, he noticed that his puukko was missing. Despite these disadvantages, he knew the terrain. They could easily survive before a friendly Finnish soldier could show them back to Loimola, behind friendly lines. Right now, they couldn't stay here for long. "Follow me," the master said.

"Right behind you, sir," Iris replied.

They carefully crept through the snow. He saw a faint glint of iron reflecting in the sunlight. The master clenched his fist.

"Stop. Sniper dead ahead," he whispered. "Stay back. Looks like he doesn't notice us."

The master stalked gingerly through the snow. He saw the sniper comfortably dug in a foxhole in the snow. He stopped right behind him. That guy was so incredibly focused that he didn't even notice him. He could strangle him if he wanted to. However, he had the feeling there was something odd about him.

The master saw five Red Army soldiers in dark winter coats contrasting against the snow. Without skis, the Russians trudged ungainly, holding their rifles above their head. The unknown sniper opened fire. The master found cover behind a tree, anticipating the hordes of bullets and Russians to follow.

"_Ya ranen!" _ a Russian cried out.

The sniper fired again, flicking the bolt effortlessly after every shot coming from his weathered M/28 rifle. He stripped a fresh clip into his rifle.

"_AAAA! __Finskiĭ!_ _Belaya Smert!"_

"_Tyhmä ryssät_," the sniper muttered.

More Russians emerged from the trees. They shot and charged en masse with steel bayonets attached to their long and slender SVT-38 and Mosin-Nagant rifles. The master watched as he gripped his rifle tighter against his shoulders.

An explosion landed in front of him but the sniper remained still as snow and dirt were thrown up in the air. More explosions shook the ground. Strangely, he heard the Russians yelling and crying out in pain.

"_Kakogo chërta nasha artilleriya delat__ʹ__?" _

The sniper stripped another clip. _"Älä itke ruma lapsi, ei se itku kaunista."_

The master retreated. He rubbed his eyes. He couldn't believe it. This had to be a dream. There was no possible way that they could've dropped in the middle of the Battle of Kollaa. He ran back through the snow, where Iris was waiting close behind.

"I don't believe it myself, but it looks like we're in the middle of the Winter War. And that sniper might just be me," he said, pointing over his shoulder.

"What are you talking about, sir?"

"If I'm right," the master said as he began stuffing his mouth full of snow. "I wou-"

The master's head violently jerked backwards as snow burst from his lips. Iris watched helplessly as he collapsed backward. White flakes flew into the air around his arms. Blood trickled out of his mouth; staining the snow a haunting shade of red. His lips slanted downward. He clenched the snow tightly in his fists.

"Sir!" Iris shouted. "Sir!"

"You broke my ceasefire," a voice cackled around her. "I was going to snap your arms off but that's too much work. I'll leave you to the elements."

* * *

Shirou sat down on his futon. What the hell was he getting into? It was a relief that Arturia was going to fight with him but it just meant that there were going to be more shootouts; even more terrible scenes. Thankfully, at least Fuji-nee was somewhere safe. With Fuyuki City in some state of lockdown, he could wait until tomorrow to visit her.

He heard the door slide open. Arturia stood at the edge of the door in soft yellow pajamas. She clutched her pillow awkwardly against her chest.

"Umm… Shirou, do you mind if I sleep with you?"

Shirou was at a loss for words. He had already slept with her before but he didn't know why it felt so strange to him now. Maybe it was the nervous look on her face.

"Uhh… I don't mind," he shrugged. He wasn't sure what this was going to lead to. "I can bring out an extra one if you like."

"Y-You do not need to. I do not wish to trouble you further."

"It's going to be a tight squeeze, you know."

"I doubt that."

Shirou smirked playfully as he threw open the covers. "Heh, I knew you would."

Arturia dropped her pillow next to Shirou's and sat down next to him. "Hold me, Shirou," she pleaded. "Tell me why we are not master and servant anymore."

Shirou wrapped his arms around her waist as he felt her hands press lightly on his neck. He gazed into her eyes and her warm smile. He kissed her firmly on her tender lips. "It's because I love you."

Arturia smiled contently. "I know. I love you too."

They broke apart. Shirou fell back onto his pillow. Sounding this mushy in front of her was something he never dreamed of. Falling for Tohsaka or Sakura was far more likely than falling in love with his ex-servant. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't believe his strange luck. He sighed contently. Arturia giggled in response.

"Good night, Shirou."

"'Night, Arturia," Shirou said, kissing Arturia one final time.

Succumbing from tiredness, he fell asleep. He felt something warm enveloping his hand. As long as she was by his side, he was at ease. Nothing was insurmountable.

* * *

Shirou looked around. Abandoned shanty brick buildings formed two parallel lines in front of him. His feet scraped across the roughened gravel street. He raised his arms in front of his face as the wind kicked up more dust from the deserted street. All signs of life were sucked out from this place. It felt like he shouldn't be anywhere near here.

Trying to find a way out, he walked further down the street. A body covered in a white cloth laid face down on the side of the street. Peering over the corpse, he didn't see any blood coming from him. It looked like he died instantly. As he walked further, men, women, and children laid before him in a haphazard line on the side of the road. Shirou had the feeling that they too were dead, but he couldn't understand why it was so bloodless.

Shirou peeked into a house. Glancing into the kitchen, he saw someone slouching over the counter, still clutching the knife that divided a blackened carrot. A body sprawled out on the lifeless floor startled him. As he heard the sound of engines and the grinding of gravel, he rushed out into the middle of the street. He waved his arms frantically, trying to wave down the approaching jeeps in front of him.

He opened his mouth but all that came out was white smoke. He tried to yell but only more white smoke escaped from his lips. The heavily armed convoy raced past him, oblivious to his waving. He watched helplessly as they sharply turned right and out of sight.

Shirou ran with as much strength he could put in his legs. All bets were off. If he had to punch them to get their attention, so be it. He saw the jeeps parked in front of the rubble of a partially collapsed house. A group of reporters were standing outside, looking around, trying to comprehend what happened. He reached out to one of them but he was startled as his hand passed completely through his shoulders. Whether he liked it or not, he could not change it.

"Why would the Iraqis do it them, to their own people?" one asked.

A bearded man stood in front of them. His olive drab coat sagged as he relaxed his shoulders. "They- They did it to us also. But they do it to his own people. To us is okay, okay? We are his enemies, we understand that, we are fighting them. But why to his own people?" He rubbed his eyes under faded aviator sunglasses.

Looking away from them, Shirou was just as confused. Mothers were arched over their children; unsuccessfully trying in vain to protect them from an invisible terror. Their haunting emotions remained on their faces. The indiscriminant killing of so many people angered him but he couldn't understand why anyone would do this on their own people.

The shelling and gunfire from afar distracted Shirou from his thoughts as a reporter and his entourage passed in front of him.

"Let's set up here. Looks like a good location to shoot."

"You got it, Terry. Camera's rolling in three, two, one."

"As the war continues to rage just a few miles from here, the Iranians make it clear that they brought us deep into the heart of enemy territory to show us the horrendous consequences of chemical warfare. The remaining residents living in this city also blame the Iraqis for what has happened here."

Shirou woke up, gasping for air in the middle of his room. Those scenes were too vexingly real for him. It wasn't as simple as Arturia's past. First Europe and now the Middle East? It felt like someone pulled random scenes in history only to mentally torture him. They were making absolutely no sense to him. He put his hand up to his forehead. He wasn't sure where the sweat came either.

"Shirou? What is the matter?" Arturia asked.

"It's nothing, Arturia," Shirou said, wiping some of the sweat off his brow. "Sorry for waking you up."

Arturia raised her hand. "You are sweating again, Shirou."

Shirou gently pushed away her hand. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

He stared down at the futon and sighed uneasily. Asking Tohsaka about his visions didn't seem like a bad idea. Looking up, he stared vacantly at Arturia's worried expression. Shirou wasn't sure if he should be afraid. The last thing he wanted to do was drag her into this. He leaned closer and hugged Arturia tightly.

"Shirou? I appreciate this but I do not understand."

Shirou nuzzled his head into Arturia's neck. His cheek rubbed across her soft, mellow skin. Breathing in her scent seemed to put his mind at ease for now. "You don't have to. Can I stay like this for a while?"

"Yes, you may."

* * *

The master woke up on his back. A shadow peered over him. His blurry vision refocused on the simple wooden beams. He tried sitting up. A dull pain throbbed against his forehead. He tried rubbing it, hoping it would go away. It should be March 13, 1940, and he should be in a Finnish military hospital by now. The nurses must have taken a break or have moved on to other patients.

"Please rest, sir," Iris said.

"Iris?" the master said. He was amazed he could still talk, albeit with a heavy slur. "Where's Juutilainen?"

"Who?"

"Aarne Juutilainen, my CO. Tell him I'm still alive."

"There is no need to, sir. We're back in the present."

"What? I could've sworn're at Kollaa. "

"I don't know what happened either, sir. After you were shot, everything collapsed all around us. I dragged you back inside. Hypothermia would have set in if I hadn't."

"Oh..."

"But there is one thing that puzzles me, sir," Iris said, pulling a handheld mirror off the table and holding it in front of his face. "You were shot in the head. It's a miracle you survived that, sir. But even though you were bleeding, I didn't see any entrance or exit wounds."

The master looked at his reflection. His mouth slanted awkwardly to the left and it looked like part of his cheek was missing. He hoped that he wouldn't have to be stuck in his 1940's appearance forever. Looking happy and youthful was far better than after he was shot by a Ruskie. Even still, he could deal with it for now. There was always extra mana he could use to revert back to his appearance before being wounded.

The master slid his leg to the side. Other than a really nasty headache, he seemed to be fine. A bit of painkillers would be enough.

"What are you doing, sir? Half your face was blown out."

He tried to respond but he felt his jaw seize up. Pain rocketed from his jaw to his head. He gritted his teeth as he tried to force mana to calm it down. Even talking was going to be difficult. Even if he wanted to find some more sources of mana, Iris was right. It'd be suicidal to try to go out like this.

"Are you alright, sir?"

The master nodded. He could bear it for now.

"I'll cook something. Do you have any preferences?"

"No."

Iris walked over to the stove and began cooking. The master still couldn't understand why anyone would want to send them to Kollaa during the Winter War. It made little sense, considering he'd survive that battle anyway. He let Iris do her thing. The sharp sounds of chopping vegetables, the smell of cabbages cooking; anything to take his mind off an eventful day was something of a godsent.

After waiting for a while, Iris came to him with a bowl of hot soup in her hands. "Here you go, sir," she said, giving it to him. "It's shsci. My babushka taught me how to make it."

"How's she doing?"

"I just found out she passed away about a year and a half ago."

"Oh…Need time off?"

"Where would I go though? Vladivostok… Beslan… they're too far away. I don't have anything. I am nobody's."

Beslan. He read about it once. That place where many children were needlessly killed. It seemed like the thing that would only happen in Russia. He never liked the Russian style of ending hostage situations with brute force.

As for Iris, she was his student. It didn't matter if had trained her to hunt and kill like he did. It didn't matter if she was Russian, German or any other nationality. It didn't matter if he had found her on the streets of Vladivostok. It was the same reason good friends always stuck together, a brother loved his sister, or a parent loved their child. There was no reason why anybody, especially him, should give up on her.

"No, you're mine."

* * *

Breakfast was a quiet affair in the Emiya Mansion. Shirou could feel the tenseness in the air. He looked over his shoulder. Rin had a vacant look on her face, no doubt staying up all night trying to find out more information about Rota Fortunae. That haunting image of Ilya flipping that enormously long rifle on its end like a toothpick still troubled him. Arturia looked the most at ease as she ate with a calming sense of grace.

"Did you have any luck finding more information?" Shirou said.

Rin shook her head. "Unfortunately, it's hard separating rumor from fact," she said, sweeping her bangs out of her face. "I've just about exhausted all the publically available sources."

"A cover up?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was one," Rin said, taking another bite. "Somebody has been doing a good covering most of it up."

"I see," Shirou muttered. This was not getting any easier.

"At any rate, you should stay here, Emiya-kun. It's more trouble than it's worth to casually go out when the military is patrolling the streets."

"I gotta see Fuji-nee though."

Rin clicked her chopsticks on the table. "Didn't you hear me, Shirou? It's not worth it being harassed by the military. Fujimura-sensei will be fine. The authorities will update you on her status. Don't you ever listen to the news?"

"Just tell me where she is, Tohsaka. It's not like you're gaining anything from holding it from me."

"Fine. I'm not going to bail you out if you're taken hostage," Rin said, handing Shirou a business card. "You should take Arturia with you. Even though a cease-fire is in effect, you're still a target."

"Ueda General Hospital," he read. "I'll be fine, Tohsaka. It doesn't look like it's far."

"Rin is right," Arturia said. "You will be vulnerable without armed escort."

"If you insist," Shirou shrugged.

"Don't turn it into a date," Rin said.

"Shut up."

After breakfast, Shirou locked up the house, with Arturia following close behind. It was a clear day, in stark contrast to the horrors inflicted on the city only recently. As they walked down the hill, Shirou passed by two JGSDF soldiers with assault rifles in their hands. The military presence increased as Shirou walked toward the city center. Jeeps and armored personnel carriers seemed to turn up everywhere they walked. Everyone around him went about their business as if the military wasn't there.

When he arrived at the hospital, columns of concertina wire lay squarely in front of the main gate. Two armed sentries stood on either side. Shirou was disappointed. He underestimated how serious this whole incident was. He knew he had no chance of getting past the guards and seeing Fuji-nee. He could wait for another day.

"I am sorry, Shirou," Artruia said.

"It's alright. I was kind of expecting that," Shirou reassured her. "Do you want to go anywhere?"

"Nowhere in particular." Arturia kissed his his cheek. "As long it is with you, of course."

"Haha. Okay," Shirou said as they walked lazily down the street. He was glad he didn't listen to Tohsaka for a change. It really was a good day to be out and about, despite the military presence. It seemed like they weren't in the mood to harass anyone without cause. Anyone that would want to ambush him was out of luck as well. It would be stupid to try to stage an attack with the extra soldiers around town.

As they were walking, Ilya appeared in front of them, dressed in a simple purple blouse and a white dress. She straightened her Denel NTW 20 as it stood on its end, clutching the elongated barrel tightly in her right hand. She brushed her white bangs out of the way. Her eyes narrowed, surveying Shirou and Arturia with deadly intent.

She smiled menacingly. "So we meet again, nii-san, nee-san. I'm assuming you wish to participate in my little deathmatch?"

"We will play your sick game, Illyasviel," Arturia retorted. "We will defeat you."

"Bold words, Arturia Pendragon. I assure you it will be worth your while, once you're dead."

"Rota Fortunae will commence in 3, 2, 1," Ilya announced.

Shirou was yanked backwards off his feet. It felt like his body was being squeezed though a narrow tube as the world spun violently around him. Dizzying colors in a confusing blur raced around Shirou's head. He saw Arturia up ahead.

"Arturia!" he called while running toward her.

Arturia turned around, running desperately toward him. "Shirou!"

Shirou lunged forward; trying to grab Arturia's outstretched hand. He only got a touch of her fingers before Arturia was yanked away from him. He tripped and fell face first, knocking him unconscious.

Shirou felt the dampness on his face as he found himself sitting in a narrow dimly lit corridor. His body rested against a rusted iron gate. He looked around. A florescent sign flickered across from him. He could only pick out the "GOODLUCK DRUG STORE" written in English. Everything else was written in Chinese he could barely understand. Crimson red characters covered the boarded up, corrugated steel door. The air around him felt stale. It felt like it wasn't circulated for months.

"Arturia?" he called, but there was no response.

He walked down the corridor. He couldn't believe the tangled mess of pipes strung above him. Dripping sounds echoed through the hallway. Flickering neon and fluorescent lights relentlessly tormented him with every step. Although he wasn't claustrophobic, he had to wonder who could live in such extremely confined spaces.

"Arturia? Tohsaka? Archer?" he called again. No response.

It was bizarrely empty. He stopped at a junction where the hallway bent sharply. To his left was a narrow stairway curving up in a tight spiral. To his right was another stairway leading down into a black abyss. He covered his nose and mouth with his shirt. The stale smell got worse.

He looked around his new surroundings. "What the hell is this place?"

He went up the narrow stairs, finding himself in a mess of hallways. It was so narrow, he could touch it end-to-end with his arms. He ducked under a low hanging sign. He made sure not to touch the grimy tile wall. He jumped. He could've sworn he heard a rat squeak somewhere. He peeked underneath a purple curtain, finding a filthy dentist's chair that faced the hallway. A cabinet at the top housed old and dusty dentures. He swiftly pulled his head back out and moved on.

Shirou saw a metal door and walked through it. He looked down over a two story atrium full of grungy signs and a few boarded up shops. Rusted metal gates created a patchwork of gloom he could not understand. Florescent lights flickered above him. Cryptic crimson writing covered almost every inch of free wall space. Hardly any light shined through here.

"Arturia? Tohsaka? Archer?" he tried once more. But again, no response.

He sighed. He didn't expect the first battle was going to be easy, but it looked like hell. A hell with no way out.

_- FINIS Chapter V_-

_Thank you to rultas and gdouglas56 for reviewing!_

**Author's Note: Tsurunen Marutei... look him up... that is all.**

The Battle of Kollaa was fought from December 7, 1939 to March 13, 1940 near what is now Loimola, Russia. Despite having far fewer troops than the Russians, the Finnish 12th Division managed to hold off 4 Divisions and 1 tank brigade of the Red Army, with far fewer casualties. Although the Red Army nearly broke through the Finnish lines, the Finns held Kollaa until the end of the Winter War, when they were forced to give it up in accordance with the Moscow Peace Treaty. It was here where Simo Hayha served. He was shot by a Russian soldier on March 6, 1940 and regained consciousness on March 13.

The dream scene here is based on accounts describing the aftermath of the poison gas attack on Halabja, Iraq on March 16, 1988. During the final stages of the Iran-Iraq war, Halabja was captured by the Iranian Army. Iraqi forces under the command of Saddam Hussein launched a counter-attack but failed. In response, Iraqi jets dropped a cocktail of chemical agents including mustard gas, sarin, tabun, and VX on the city, which numbered 80,000 at the time. The attack quickly killed around 5,000 people and injured 11,000, most of them civilians. Many more would die because of complications of exposure to the chemical agents. It remains the largest chemical attack against a civilian population in history.

For those who know where I sent Shirou, I kindly ask that you do not spoil it. It is what you think it is. I will cover it in in the next chapter.

For those who have followed this story so far and have not knee-jerked in "WTF!" I thank you for putting up with my admittedly radical twists I have made.

Love it, hate it? Feedback? Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!

Until next time.


	6. Fate's Ransomers

**Chapter VI**

**Fate's Ransomers**

**DISCLAIMER: **_All trademarks belong to their respective owners, including Fate/Stay Night to TYPE-MOON. I do not own a shred of anything outside my original characters and plot ideas._

A bag of flour towered over Rin as she awakened to find herself prone on the floor, her arms covered with a fine layer of flour. More flour fell from her body as she stood up. She grimaced as she bumped her head on a cabinet, knocking more flour into her hair. She tried dusting it off her body, her blouse, her skirt, and even her knee socks as best she could but she knew she couldn't get it all out if she wanted to. Rin sighed dejectedly. Her outfit was trashed. Maybe Archer would hand-wash it for her later.

She looked around dazedly. Maize colored walls were splattered with the splotches of mold and mildew. Flour covered everything; the walls, the clock, and even the fan weakly humming beside her. Iron machinery lay idle on the table with a thick coating of flour all around its gears. The black plastic gasoline containers that bunched up all around her had a coating of flour as well.

"Archer?" she called. No response. "Damn, what is this place?"

Rin coughed, sending a flurry of white everywhere from her mouth. She walked over to the table and picked up a phone that rested precariously on a stack of phone books and invoices. Picking up the grimy receiver, she held it as far away from her as possible from her cheek and pressed '0', hoping for an operator.

"We are sorry, the number you have dialed is not available at this time."

Rin dropped it back down. "Damn it," she cursed.

She walked out, determined to find a way out. Looking curiously at the open pair of yellow doors stacked in front of her, she went inside. Fresh sticks of incense smoldered on the altar. Across from it was a bookshelf, carrying a television facing away from her. Rin squeezed between them, trying to avoid knocking anything onto the floor. She noticed a glimmer of light shining through. Hopefully it could provide her a way out.

She stepped onto the tiny porch, clenching her hand against the green iron grille that blocked her way to the people walking along streets below. A seven-story fall would critically injure most people but there was nothing magic couldn't do for her. At least there was a corrugated metal roof she could use before landing safely on the ground.

"_Vier Stil Erschießung!"_ she said, shooting the spell point blank in front of her.

She watched helplessly as her spell shattered against the grille. She tried again, but it seemed unbreakable. She kicked it in frustration, but it only rattled.

"Stop kicking it, Tao!"

"It's not me, ma!"

Staring at the green lattice in front of her, Rin heard footsteps. Her heart raced, knowing that she would be inevitably busted. Once the footsteps stopped, she expected the inevitable. Rin turned around, looking awkwardly at the skinny Chinese woman standing in front of her. Her short black hair barely rested on a green t-shirt.

"Huh… must be the stupid pigeons," she shrugged, oblivious to Rin's presence.

Confused, Rin went back inside, not understanding why her spell failed or how that woman didn't even notice her. She saw a calendar hanging up on the wall and looked at the date.

"4 February 1990… Wait, that can't be right." She flipped through it, hoping it was an old one. "If that's true, that explains everything. No wonder I'm so weak."

Rin went out and walked down the narrow hallways. Fluorescent lights flickered erratically above her head. Old flyers littered the walls on both sides. Rubbish piled up in random piles, begging to be picked up and moved out. She brought the sleeves of her blouse up to her nose and mouth, trying desperately to prevent the unrelenting stench from overpowering her. Hearing multiple rats screech, she jumped, hitting the back of her head against the wall.

"Ow," Rin grumbled. "How could anybody live like this?"

"Once you cross Boundary Street, you never come back," Ilya's voice echoed off the walls.

"What the hell?"

"This no place for _gweilo_ to be running about," a low devilish voice growled behind her. Rin turned around slowly. A balding middle-aged man stood ungainly in front of her, twirling scratchy brown hair with grotesque fingers.

"What'chu want? Come look-see?" he said, forming his mouth into a half-discreet smile. Jagged yellow teeth protruded from his jaw separated by a few gaps of missing teeth. As he lurched toward Rin, she retreated cautiously. Except for more scumbags like him coming out of the woodwork, she wasn't sure what would happen if she hit him. Severely limited magical powers didn't help her with her uneasiness. Despite her doubts, Rin tried not to let it show.

"I'm not in the mood for sightseeing," she asserted as her back pressed against the cold concrete wall.

Men, women, and children of all shapes and sizes emerged from tiny doors scattered along the hall. Their piercing red eyes stared intently at her. The best solution was was to try to charge straight through them. It'd be too much to take them all on one by one. Rin clenched her fists, raised her leg up to the wall, and kicked off, charging toward them. She shouted wildly as she punched and kicked her way through.

She ran through the narrow confusing maze of hallways, ignoring the cacophony of her hurried footsteps. All she wanted was to get away from them as far as possible. She stopped at the bottom of a staircase, leaned forward, and rested her hands on her knees. Gasping for air, she planted her arms on rusted iron handrails. She looked back. Nothing approached her out of the cold darkness. she would be safe for now. Turning back around, she jumped back in shock. Dangling upside-down in front of her was a woman looking not much older than her facing toward the stairs. Chestnut hair nearly touched the floor. Noticing the prana emanating from her corpse, Rin turned her around. Her facial features were gone, completely wiped off her face.

"Damn… this must be recent," Rin muttered.

She pushed back the body and raced her way up the stairs as a grenade clinked on the floor. Nearing the top, she was knocked forward when it exploded. Her ears rang as the deafening explosion pierced her head. Blinded by a sheet of white light, the only thing she felt were her hands rubbing against the floor. As her vision refocused, she stumbled through the halls still dazed and disoriented.

She ducked into another residence and stumbled her way into the tiny kitchen. She grabbed a kitchen knife and hid in a closet. Glass shattered and possessions were knocked over on the other side of Rin's door. Peering through a crack in the doorframe, she caught a glimpse of her attacker. Brown eyes and skinny arms combed through the room blindly and furiously. A dark grey Uzi submachine gun was slung over his shoulder.

As he moved past her and into a bedroom, Rin cautiously emerged with the knife clutched tightly in her hands. She crouched behind him and plunged the knife into him repeatedly. Using the Uzi and the sling that fell down on the floor, she managed to get it around his neck and yanked it back as hard as she could.

Rin panted heavily as the knife rattled on the floor. Looking at the dead body in front of her, she wiped the sweat off her brow. She picked up the Uzi and darted out. She needed to find Archer, or at the very least, Shirou or Arturia. In the maze of concrete halls and rusted metal pipes, protecting herself had a higher priority of finding a way out.

* * *

Archer looked over the seemingly endless sea of rooftops in front of him. The rooftops were a hodgepodge of height and colors thrown up seemingly at random. Antennas sprouted from every possible square inch, forming a landscape of thin gray weeds. He had a strong feeling that he was transported back in time. The Future Force Warrior system that helped him for much of the conflict so far was gone. All he had were his BDUs, the Colt 1911 by his side, and the black M16A2 rifle leaning in front of him.

A Boeing 747 screeched overhead and shook the structure underneath. Archer ducked and covered his ears, trying to avoid the landing gear that was dangerously close to knocking his head clean off. Archer struggled to dampen the insane jet noise blasting into his ears. He saw the passengers through the windows as the green and white Cathay Pacific jumbo jet made a steep landing at Kai Tak Airport just to his left.

Archer grabbed the assault rifle in front of him and jumped over the low hanging wall in front of him, landing on another rooftop. He looked around the jagged landscape of rooftops for a way to get in. With the overwhelming number of ladders leading in every conceivable direction, he chose the one with thick wooden beams in front of him and started climbing with the M16 on his back. He heard the cracks of gunfire. He climbed faster as they skirted dangerously close to his body. He jumped over the last few rungs and rolled onto the top of another rooftop. Crouching underneath a web of power lines, he found cover behind a concrete wall.

He brought the M16 up to his shoulders and fired a few bursts just over the corrugated metal roofs. Some pierced the thin sheets of metal as if nothing was there. Archer wasn't sure if anyone was behind that but he had no time to dwell on it. More shots raced over his head. He tried peeking around again but he quickly pulled his head back in.

"Damn, this guy is good," he muttered.

Archer crouched down and looked to his right. A narrow pathway slithered among the concrete and corrugated roof structures that crammed all around him on the rooftop. Stalking among the power lines and the antennas, his M16 hovered just off the ground, ready to be snapped up at any moment. It looked like the perfect terrain for anybody to jump out of nowhere and ambush him. He looked for every possible way he could run or where someone else could run. It was easy to get lost here.

Archer had the feeling he was being watched. He snapped back around and aimed his M16 at the sounds of approaching laughter behind him. A group of children ran past him as if they hadn't even noticed him. He looked around him. More people were starting to emerge onto the rooftops, unaware of firefights around them.

"Civilians…" Archer muttered.

Archer ducked down as more shots flew past him. After he fired a few more bursts, he vaulted over another low concrete wall and onto the corrugated roof of another building. He jumped off the roof and looked over the rusted metal railing. Below him was at least a ten story drop into the courtyard below, enough to kill him and anybody stupid enough to jump down there.

More shots raced past him. He brought the M16 back up and saw two figures in the windows across from him. With a few short bursts, he managed to take them down. Their shots ceased for now. Needing to find a respite from being exposed and from the sun, he found a place where he could hide for now. Pressing his back up against the wall, he reached out and opened the door slowly, making sure to lead off with the M16. Stepping inside and closing the door gently behind him, he swept his assault rifle through the dimly lit room.

Hearing the loud, distinctive click of someone pulling a charging handle, he snapped around and brought the M16 up to his shoulders.

"Archer!" Rin gasped, gripping the Uzi submachine gun tightly in her hands. Her arms shook nervously as she pointed it toward Archer.

"Rin, it's me. Please put the gun away," he said calmly. He really didn't want to shoot her.

As Rin lowered her gun, he did so as well. "Christ," Archer muttered. "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry, Archer," Rin sighed. "I can't be too cautious."

"Where did you get that Uzi from?"

"Look Archer, someone tried to kill me with it okay?" Rin said irritably. "More importantly, we've been sent back to February 4th, 1990. And if I'm right, the Kowloon Walled City."

"You're seriously messed up, aren't you?"

"Archer, I'm serious," Rin hissed. "You don't have your usual stuff, don't you?"

She was right. Archer knew that the very idea of a future combat soldier was still in its infancy at this time. The ACR he normally carried wasn't even on the design table yet. Rin would still be a baby, if she was born at all. He wasn't sure if the place they were fighting in was real. It seemed controlled and suspiciously scripted to him.

Despite another jumbo jet screeching loudly overhead, Archer heard sharp clinks on the floor. Turning around, he saw a round object the size of his fist wrapped in a dirty old rag. It exploded, knocking him to the floor. He didn't have any time to react after seeing that. With his back smashed against the wall, he tried moving his arms and legs but it was no use. Looking down, he saw the bloody holes that ripped through his fatigues.

"Damn it," he cursed. Whoever cooked off that grenade was good.

Muffled cries of "Archer!" filled his ears. Through his faded vision, he saw Rin hobbling toward him. Although he must have caught most of the blast, there was no doubt she was injured as well. He felt the warm energy of Rin trying to heal him but he knew it was futile as Rin's prana sputtered.

"Argh!" He gritted his teeth. "Get out, Rin! There's bound to be more!"

"No, goddamn it! No!" Rin yelled. She clutched her thigh tightly. "I'm not leaving you behind! Not like the last time!"

Though his hearing was still in shock, Archer managed to hear a distinctive clink on the concrete floor. "Grenade!" he shouted, despite the considerable pain in his chest. He rolled over onto his side, with his head facing the corner, hoping to avoid further injury. The grenade exploded. He felt the shockwave slam against his body. He wasn't sure if he or Rin was injured further.

He felt Rin's arms trying to right him back up again as he was fighting to remain conscious. "Wait…" he coughed. "Get the bastard first."

"There's no time. I'm getting you out of here," Rin said, tugging at his collar. Archer groaned loudly as he was dragged across the bare concrete floor. He was drifting in and out of consciousness. They needed to be evacuated. He wasn't sure how much longer he and Rin were going to last with their injuries.

Archer felt the harsh sun against his face as his back was set down to rest against another concrete wall. Rin desperately tried to use her magic again. Archer could feel the warmth from Rin's magic but as far as he could tell, it wasn't working. He had a feeling Rin knew it as well; that someone, or something, was snuffing magical power.

"Damn it!" Rin yelled frustratingly.

The distinct noise of helicopters filled their ears. Archer watched through grayed vision as Rin struggled to stand upright. In a desperate attempt to signal it, she outstretched one of her arms while having the other one on her thigh. Her back was hunched over as she tried to endure the pain. As the sounds got quieter, Rin waved frantically until she collapsed forward onto the ground. It was a painful sight for him; he couldn't do anything about it.

"Rin. In my left breast pocket… take it," Archer said, trying to maintain his focus. "You need it more than me."

"Archer! I can't-"

"I'm sorry I let you down, Rin. I'm nearing the end. I'm sorry…" he said, struggling to get one last glimpse of her face. Tears flowed down her cheeks. Archer tilted his head back, expecting death's inevitable embrace. Rin's muffled cries were the last thing he heard. Then he heard nothing, felt nothing. It was going to be a while before anybody found his corpse.

It felt like hours to him. Although it ended unexpectedly for him, Archer didn't regret his decisions. He knew what needed to be done. She would die as well if he didn't let her take his bandages from him.

He was barely conscious, with little energy to open his eyelids above a squint. He groaned, expecting the last death throes to overtake him. He heard a scream, but it was not Rin's. It sounded more like a child's. Standing in front of him was a young girl with long blonde hair, shocked at the sight of him. Looking at her face, she didn't look older than 13. He figured she was slightly younger than that. Strangely, she was dressed in a brown coat and a grey and white scarf, unusual dress in the burning sun.

Archer winced as her scarf drooped slightly onto his mangled legs. Cerulean eyes met his squinting eyes. She was speechless.

"Move along, kid. There's nothing," Archer said weakly.

With trembling hands, she pulled out a black Mauser C96 and pointed it at Archer. Looking up the gun's rifled barrel, he watched as it shook nervously in her petite hands. She hesitated for the longest time. Archer could knock it out of hands and disarm her if he wasn't wounded by that grenade. He noticed the stem and the pin of a grenade sticking out of her coat. It must have been her that threw those grenades.

"_Co robisz? __Zastrzel go! __Zastrzel go teraz!" _Archer heard a furious voice.

"_Ale… Nie mogę!" _she cried fearfully. "_On umiera! Nie jest sprawiedliwe!"_

Archer saw the fear and the shock that emanated from her expressions. He titled his head back dejectedly and closed his eyes. He was beaten by a girl. He couldn't believe she had the nerve to throw grenades at them but not have the nerve to shoot him up close and personal to finish him off. It reminded him of a person thrust into combat for the first time.

"_Pospieszny się!__ Jeśli żyje, to on zabije!" _it demanded louder._  
_

"_Ale… Nie mogę! Nie mogę! Nie mogę!"_

It seemed like she was pleading with someone he wasn't seeing. Three final shots ripped through the air. It was finally over for Archer.

* * *

Arturia ran through the maze of narrow hallways as gunfire and her footsteps echoed throughout. She needed to find Shirou and a way out. She could have sworn she saw him on one of the floors overlooking the courtyard. Weaving around the people in the hallways, she didn't understand why they weren't reacting to anything, especially the gunfire. How they decided about living in the filth, the smell, and the wretched conditions disgusted her. The sun struggled to shine through. It was insanity.

Gunfire interrupted her running. Taking cover inside one of the many cramped factories and shops that went up and down the hallway, she returned fire with her L85A1 assault rifle. She couldn't see her attackers but she knew they were somewhere farther down the hall. Debris flew everywhere as shots flew off the signs, the concrete, and the pipes and wires above her.

"Grenade!" she heard someone shout. She was pushed sideways onto the hard floor as the grenade exploded near her. Arturia stood back up dazed and confused. She heard Shirou groan loudly.

"Ugh, Shirou?" she wondered.

Looking all around her, she saw Shirou on his side on the floor, barely conscious. He was losing a lot of blood. His vacant eyes hardly moved as it looked like he was waning in and out of consciousness. Shrapnel of various sizes littered his bloodstained back. Thankfully, none of his limbs were blown off, but he needed to be evacuated quickly.

Arturia tried moving her arms but she noticed that she couldn't move her left arm as much. Looking at it, it was clear that she had been hit by pieces of shrapnel. Although she could fight wounded for a little while longer, it was clear that she needed to be evacuated as well. Fighting some of the pain, she raised her assault rifle up a bit and fired a few short bursts, hoping to deter their attackers. Miraculously, she saw an old VHF combat radio between Shirou and her. She turned it on and picked up the receiver.

"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Sierra Six. I am wounded and I have another casualty with me. Need helicopter support. Need extraction immediately, over!"

Under fire, she picked up the radio again with her good arm, hoping anybody could hear her distress signal though the thick concrete walls.

"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Sierra Six. I am wounded and I have another casualty with me. Need helicopter support. Need extraction immediately, over!"

Another grenade exploded nearby, nearly jolting the receiver out of her hand and against her face. The radio crackled as bits of concrete cracked off the walls. "Sierra Six, this is Echo Three One. We hear you loud and clear. State your position."

The voice at the other end was a godsent, but she didn't know where she was. Arturia looked around frantically for a street sign. There were pathways going in every direction imaginable but hardly a street sign visible.

"Come in, Sierra Six. Come in."

"Near Kwong Ming Road and Lung Chung Road," she said, hoping it was the right answer.

"Copy, Sierra Six. Hang in there. ETA 10 minutes."

"Negative, Echo Three One. We'll be dead in five!"

"We'll get there as soon as possible, Sierra Six. Echo Three One, out."

Arturia bent around and returned fire. The situation was getting desperate by the minute. They needed to be evacuated soon. She couldn't fight much longer as she struggled to control her assault rifle trought the pain. Shirou's ability to provide mana to her was weakening. She didn't want to think about the consequences.

After what seemed like eternity, Arturia heard the noise of a helicopter's rotors slicing through the concrete walls. It seemed like a miracle. As she heard the constant drone of the helicopter hovering somewhere near her, gunshots rang out again in rapid bursts. Apprehensive at first, she quickly figured it must be part of the helicopter support she called in earlier.

Her radio crackled again. "Sierra Six, this is Echo Three Five. We've located a possible LZ about 100 meters south of your position. We should be arriving shortly, over."

She picked up the receiver. "Copy, Echo Three Five. We'll be there. Sierra Six, out."

Withstanding the sharp pain that nearly seized her arm, Arturia picked up her assault rifle and shot the radio. She was not taking any chances to be compromised. Arturia picked up Shirou's good arm and wrapped it around her neck and her good shoulder. She wrapped and twisted the sling around Shirou. Overcoming her tired legs, she pushed up, ready to get the both of them out of this place.

With her assault rifle slung around her and Shirou, she used the last of her energy to run through the narrow halls. Even though Shirou was groaning loudly and his feet were dragging on the ground, Arturia didn't give in. Despite the atrocious, putrid smell of garbage, the stale, musty air, and the blood dripping down her face, she fought all of those distractions as the helicopter's noise grew louder. They were nearing the light at the end of the hallway.

Emerging from the dark and crowded hallways, she saw the grotesque teal and grey Westland Wessex parked nearby with its rotors spinning. Racing toward it, she ducked her head down as gunfire raged all around her. She focused on the thin black 'E' and the blue and red rounded pained on the side as she kept jogging the last few meters. She eased up as four medics dressed in olive flight suits emerged from the helicopter and rushed out to meet them.

The medics swiftly cut the bloodied sling and rushed Shirou into the helicopter and onto a stretcher. Arturia collapsed onto the cabin floor, using her exhausted arm to support herself up. She panted heavily. Not since the Grail War she had pushed the both of them to their limits.

"Don't worry. You'll live, Leftenant Pendragon," one of the medics said, helping her up into the helicopter.

Satisfied with that statement, Arturia sat down onto the nearest seat and slumped contently. She looked back at where they emerged from. It was an ugly monstrosity of metal and concrete, looking just as hideous and imposing as it did from the inside. There was a dirty brown tinge that stained what was supposed to be white walls. Crudely made signs covered every inch of available space. Flats and shacks of all sizes were stacked haphazardly without care in the harsh afternoon sun. Steel wire meshes covered the balconies on the upper floors like a birdcage. A lone Westland Scout helicopter circled around the walled city.

"I don't think I've seen anyone come out of the walled city alive," a medic said as he was treating Arturia's wounds.

As the helicopter powered up again to take off, Arturia noticed a figure emerging from the forbidding structure of concrete in the corner of her eye. As it collapsed, Arturia raised her arm and pointed outside the helicopter's door.

"We see 'em, Leftenant. Once they're brought in, we're going to be lifting off. We're not leavin' anybody behind."

The medics that were not treating Arturia and Shirou ran out, rushing under the gunfire to try to save a life they never met. They came back equally as fast with the casualty in their arms and deposited it onto another stretcher. They whisked it past her so quickly that she didn't have a chance to identify who it was. Arturia didn't mind though, she had to concentrate on her own injuries for now.

As the helicopter lifted up and flew past the skyline and the bright city lights of Kowloon, Arturia was relieved. There was a good chance she and Shirou were never going to see the light of day. Even still, she didn't know what happened to Rin, to Archer, or anybody else trapped in that hell. For now, simply surviving was a victory. There would be many more battles like this to come, but she was thankful they made it out alive.

* * *

As the sun set over Kowloon, Ilya wandered among the rooftops with a Walther P8 pistol in her hand, looking for anybody to eliminate from the competition. The first round of Rota Fortunae, a free-for-all in the Walled City of Kowloon, was over. All that was left for Ilya was to clean up the stragglers; the ones who failed to make it out, but were somehow still alive. She expected a lot of them as the weakest ones fell to the wayside but refused to quit. This was one of many dull tasks associated with the role, to have weak slum dogs waste her time. She was thankful that she didn't have to clean up the dead bodies.

She shot every participant that was left that had a pulse with brutal efficiency. Most of the time, it only took one, maybe two or three times if someone stubbornly refused to stay down. It was by no means boring, but it was too predictable. All of her victims were faceless, nameless, and without any significance. She didn't care if they had a life. Why should she? She was artificial after all.

Then she found where Archer laid and kneeled down, looking at his face quizzically.

"My, my Archer," she mused. "I can't say I'm surprised." She grabbed a syringe filled with a dark purple substance out of her pocket. "But since I think you were eliminated far too early, I'll give you a second chance."

She inserted the syringe slowly into Archer's arm and squeezed it gingerly. "See Archer? I'm not that mean," she said.

"Shut the hell up, you bitch," Archer responded.

Without saying a word, Ilya smiled menacingly and forced the rest of the fluid into Archer's veins. She watched as Archer tried to resist but she knew it was useless. As Arched yelled in pain, his body forcibly twitched and jerked violently. Ilya watched coolly as Archer was forced unconscious and limp once again onto the brutal concrete.

"I brought you back from the dead. Don't you ever forget that," Ilya said coldly as she stiffly removed the needle out of Archer. "But I have plans for you, Archer…"

_Grand plans… _

_-FINIS Chapter VI-_

_Thank you to Rultas and wow for reviewing!_

**Authors Note: The last chapter before my absurdly short summer is over...  
**

At the heart of all of this is the Kowloon Walled City. Originally a Chinese settlement, it would later be claimed by the British. Except for being controlled by the Japanese during WWII, it was largely in British hands. The Chinese announced their intent to reclaim their rights to the Walled City after the end of WWII and by 1947, 2,000 squatters moved in. The British would try to drive them out a year later but failed, adopting a largely hands-off approach in most matters concerning the City. With almost no government enforcement by the Chinese or the British it became a notorious crime haven ruled by Hong Kong Triads from the 1950s to 1973-74. Drugs and violent crime were reduced dramatically by the 1980's and it remained relatively peaceful during the 1980's and the 1990's.

It became notorious for its insanely cramped and deplorable conditions. According to a survey conducted in 1987, roughly 33,000 residents lived in its 6.5 acres (0.03 sq km, 0.01 sq mi). At its time, it was the most densely populated place on Earth, and remains the most densely populated place in history. Most apartments had around 23 m sq (250 sq ft) of space. During the 1960s and the 1970s, construction accelerated, often not in accordance to building codes. Most of the roughly 350 buildings that made up the city were built on poor foundations with few or no utilities. Most people got water from wells. Garbage and rats were a problem among with other sanitation issues. It was in the final approach path of one of the busiest airports on Earth. After its residents were forcefully evicted between November 1991 and July 1992, demolition began on March 23, 1993 and concluded in April 1994. At the site of the former Walled City is now the Kowloon Walled City Park. I tried to model my descriptions based on the photographs and accounts gathered before the Walled City was demolished. Just looking at the pictures that were taken, it's astonishing anyone could live there.

I have tried to make things as historically accurate to February 4, 1990 as possible. Some notable examples include using accurate weaponry as the weapons Archer and Ilya normally used were not in service. The Westland Wessex and the Scout were both used in Hong Kong during this time. Simo Hayha was still alive in Finland so it didn't make much sense to add him in. However, I tried to instill some kind of sense that it didn't feel natural, like it seemed like a controlled environment without overtly forcing it.

The young girl represents the child soldier inspired by the Lwów Eaglets (_Orlęta Lwowskie_); Polish child soldiers that participated in the Battle of Lwów (now Lviv, Ukraine) during the Polish-Ukrainian War. From November 1, 1918 to May 22, 1919 Polish defenders resisted the Ukrainian Army which occupied the city and later besieged it. After the initial clashes, the defenders were joined by hundreds of volunteers, mostly scouts, students, and youngsters. Children as young as ten died in the conflict.

Unfortunately, I'm going to be far busier just around the corner. I will try to work on more updates but I don't expect it to be quick.

Love it, hate it? Feedback? Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!

Until next time.


	7. Fate's Patronizers

**Chapter VII**

**Fate's Patronizers**

**DISCLAIMER: **_All trademarks belong to their respective owners, including Fate/Stay Night to TYPE-MOON. I do not own a shred of anything outside my original characters and plot ideas._

Shirou woke up in the early hours of the morning light; the sun shining through the thin shoji doors. He sat up dazedly on the hard tatami floor. Looking down at the white sheet that covered him, he was sure he was dead. The last thing he remembered was lying on his side, with someone staring at him as he was drifting in and out of consciousness. He couldn't tell who it was. It seemed like he was flying during that time. He couldn't have been rescued. The injuries that he suffered were too severe for even the most competent doctors. Dying and going to heaven was the most logical explanation he could think of.

The clock ticked with sharp staccatos. He looked around. The pots, pans, and utensils were still there as he left it that afternoon. He was grateful that his kitchen and his living room weren't smashed up. Throwing off the sheet and trying to stand up again, his bones crunched with a sickening sound. His muscles were aching, begging for rest.

Stumbling around his home, he couldn't find Arturia or Rin. He didn't know where they were, or even if they were alive or dead. The last time he remembered seeing her was when he pushed her away from that grenade. Even if he survived the blast, there was little hope that Arturia did as well. If anything, she was bound to sustain critical injuries, as she wasn't a servant anymore.

Although he looked all around the house, there was only one place that she would have gone. As he went inside the dojo, rays of sunlight strafed inside, forming dark shadows that appeared on the floor. Arturia was kneeling on the hard wooden floor in the middle, her back facing toward him. Her L85A2 assault rifle leaned vertically against the wall. It seemed too out of place to him.

Noticing his footsteps, Arturia stood. "Good morning, Shirou. I assume you have recovered enough from your injuries to walk."

"Barely," Shirou replied. "Are you alright?"

"I have sustained serious injuries in that last engagement and I am still recovering. However, I can still fight adequately, if the need arises."

"Do you know where Tohsaka is?"

Arturia looked away. "I am afraid I do not know Rin's status. One can only assume she was placed in a similar situation as us."

"What about Archer?"

"I am afraid I do not know his status as well."

"Damn it," Shirou muttered. Archer and Rin were hardly pushovers. The mere thought of the both of them eliminated in the first round troubled him. If they were eliminated that early, he couldn't imagine the types of opponents they were about to face in the coming rounds. They barely made it out alive. He didn't know if they were going to survive the next. It was maddening, frustrating, to fight in something that only tormented him even more.

"I understand your frustration, Shirou," Arturia said. "This so-called 'event' worries me as well. The obstacles that were presented to us were truly formidable and more challenging than I had expected."

"I see. But you don't seem to be phased."

"That is not true. I am still affected by it. I am finding myself having to emotionally disconnect from my actions more often."

"I wish I could do that," Shirou said. He stared at the calligraphy in front of him. Like clockwork, he expected another dream tonight on top of the combat he has been through. He had seen enough of war and what terrible things people did to each other. He knew he could never stop it from happening in the future nor erased what happened in the past. All it served was to repeatedly torment him.

"Shirou, I cannot help but wonder. Has there been anything troubling you recently?"

Shirou paused. "I'm fine, Arturia."

"I suspect your tone tells me otherwise."

Shirou swallowed. "I've been having dreams. It wasn't you, but it was innocent people, needlessly suffering through war. I've seen children that were hit by artillery and an entire town annihilated by chemical weapons. You wouldn't understand."

"I understand, Shirou. Despite the advances in weaponry and warfare, brutality in war is certainly not lost."

"You don't know anything. Times have changed. Chivalry is meaningless."

"What are you saying, Shirou? Of course I know. Chivalry is disregarded in times of war. I have burned villages to the ground, famished my own people to feed my army, slaughtered young knights without mercy, and even felled my illegitimate child. All of this was done with my own hands. And you are accusing me of not knowing such a thing?"

"You're right. I'm sorry."

Arturia looked into his eyes. "Shirou, please understand that even though I am not your servant, I can still assist you as well," she said.

"Sempai! Are you awake?" Sakura's upbeat voice seemed to break up their argument.

"Sakura?" Shirou wondered.

"I think it is best if we entertain Sakura for the time being," Arturia suggested.

Shirou stood hesitantly, unsure if it was the right thing to do. Arturia's warm hands enveloped his. She never said anything, but simply smiled at him. It seemed to put his thoughts at ease for now. Arturia forgave him; that was the most important. Together, they walked out of the dojo hand-in-hand and into the house.

As Shirou and Arturia walked into the living room, Sakura was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Fresh aromas drifted towards him. He felt better already.

"Good morning, Sakura," he said cheerfully.

"Good morning, sempai," Sakura said. "Please just wait a moment. I am almost done with breakfast."

After a few minutes, a complete Japanese breakfast was served. As he tried to entertain Sakura with lively conversations, he felt he could forget about what happened during his time in combat. But what exactly happened to Archer and Rin still nagged him like the pain and soreness still within his body. He still couldn't stop thinking about the challenges that he and Arturia still had to face. If the next rounds were going to be on the same level like the first one, it was going to be extremely difficult.

As he saw Sakura off, he had to find some way to get her away from the conflict. Just associating with him was dangerous. Sakura was already wounded in that RPG attack. If it weren't for Archer's medical expertise and her mana, she could have been critically injured or killed. If it were a direct attack by a servant-grade, there was no way she was coming back alive. It was clear that some kind of plan needed to be thought up; he just didn't know where to start.

The phone ringing interrupted him. "Hello. Emiya residence," Shirou answered.

"Shirou, it's me," Rin said. "We need to talk."

"Tohsaka? Are you OK? I thought-"

"Shut up. Talking about what happened the other day over the phone is not a good idea."

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Shirou demanded.

"Just come over. I promise I'm not going to do anything extreme."

"OK, fine. I'll come. This better be good," Shirou sighed. "See you in a bit."

"Yeah, it will. Bye."

Shirou hung up the phone. He was relieved that Rin was alive but he knew something was wrong. That tone in her voice, her vagueness, her bluntness; all of it didn't bode well with Shirou. Just having a conversation with Tohsaka when she was normal was an exercise in humiliation. The uncertainty maddened him, as if he needed more.

"If you are leaving, I shall accompany you," Arturia insisted. "There is a high risk of an ambush."

The walk to the Tohsaka Mansion was pleasantly without incident. Still, Shirou saw Arturia's reasoning. Due to his participation the Grail War, he was certainly a well known target. Even though he knew Arturia and him were the only ones who participated in the Grail War still in the competition, he couldn't be too certain.

Pushing open the mahogany colored gate, the tall oak and pine trees that greeted him never cease to amaze him. A slight breeze ruffled their leaves as they walked along a brick path leading up toward the front door.

"I do not think I have been to Rin's residence before," Arturia said.

Shirou chuckled a bit. He knocked the brass handle on an imposing set of double doors. He did not have to wait long before Rin opened the door.

"Morning," Rin greeted them.

"Morning, Tohsaka. May we come in?"

"Sure Arturia, Emiya-kun," Rin smiled. "Please. I rarely have visitors."

"Are you alright?" Shirou said.

Rin shut the door behind her. "Archer's gone! We were shot up! In fact, I nearly died! Of course I'm alright, you idiot!" Rin snapped. "It's a miracle you and Arturia survived at all!"

Rin collapsed into a chair and stared dejectedly at the fluttering white curtains. "Look, if you didn't know by now, all of us were sent the Kowloon Walled City for the first round of the competition. Out of the multitude of people that were eliminated," Rin said, struggling to maintain her composure, "A-Archer was one of them."

"I am sorry for your loss, Rin. Archer was an excellent combatant," Arturia said.

"Yeah, well, none of that matters now," Rin said, brushing her hair aside. "It's my fault. I underestimated how dangerous it was and how high the stakes were really were. I shouldn't have left him there. I should have died along with him. But yet, I'm still alive. Why is that?"

"Maybe it was just bad luck," Shirou said.

"Maybe," Rin said dazedly. "Anyway, we've got to focus. I've gathered some new intelligence."

"You're crazy, Tohsaka!" Shirou cried.

"Crazy? So what? All of us are going to be killed if we don't," Rin flustered. "Apparently, we aren't the only ones participating in this insane game. There are three other similar competitions around the world operating under the same name."

"Are they all linked?" Shirou asked.

"I don't know," Rin said, resting her head into her hand. "There are other competitions supposedly taking place right now in Juarez, Mexico, Darfur, Sudan, and Å, Norway."

"I've never even heard of these places," Arturia said.

"I wouldn't expect you to know," Rin said. She pulled a piece of paper out. "I managed to find a partial list of the combatants for Fuyuki City. Just looking over it, I don't see any particular name that stands out. Simo Hayha, Ayrton Senna, Herostratus, Sogolon Djata, Nathan Hale, Vasily Buslaev; I only recognize a few. You don't recognize anyone else, do you?" Rin said, handing Shirou the list.

Shirou glanced over it and passed it over to Arturia. "Sorry, I don't," he said. "You're telling me that's the partial list?"

"Yeah, which means we should expect more combatants than the Grail War. Plus, I don't even know what their classes are either. They could be anything; snipers, bombers, mercenaries, pilots. From what I know, I'm guessing Arturia is just a basic soldier. There's nothing that indicates otherwise."

"Damn." Shirou stood up, turning to leave. "Anyway, thanks Tohsaka I-"

"I think it's best for you and Arturia to spend the night here," Rin said bluntly. "I wouldn't be surprised if firefights break out all over Fuyuki City tonight. And frankly, your security is a joke. I'm not making that mistake of underestimating our opponents again. Neither should you."

* * *

Hearing the low buzzing noise of the helicopter blades slicing through the air, Shirou awakened to find himself at the edge of his seat, moving sideways across the green, rice paddy landscape below. The air whipped at his face. Out in the glaring sun, a grey UH-1 Iroquois helicopter followed nearby. Clinched in his hands was a M60 machine gun, attached on a platform by a bungee cord, with a fresh link of cartridges strung to a box magazine. Confused, he looked down. Sewn on his buttoned up olive fatigues were tags that read "ANDREOTTA" and "U.S. ARMY".

Looking over toward the pale-faced pilot seated in the glass bubble canopy, he saw the name tag that read "THOMPSON" in black letters. Behind him was another person on the other side, with another M60 at the ready. Thompson calmly steered the OH-23 Raven helicopter into a gentle turn. Shirou looked toward the narrow boom. There was nothing that protected them. One shot to the exposed engines and turbines and he was certain they were all going to die.

Shirou turned. In front of the helicopter was a column of green smoke. Thompson put the helicopter into a shallow dive and hovered about ten feet above the ground. A young woman flailed, waving back and forth wounded in an open field.

"Oh, we got to get some help for this one," Thompson said. Seeing the American soldiers approach, he raised the helicopter up. He got on the radio. "I got a wounded civilian here. Can you all help her out?"

They saw an American soldier come up to her and prodded her with his boot. With the M16 in his hands, they watched as he brought it up. To Shirou's shock, he unloaded the magazine on full-auto at point blank range. Shirou was sure she wasn't armed.

The helicopter continued flying near the burning village. Some soldiers were shooting their M16's indiscriminately. Some were fanning the flames of fire-engulfed thatch houses. Shirou was in shock. There were no words to describe his reaction to the carnage and the devastation below.

"It looks like a bloodbath down there! What the hell is going on?" Thompson wondered.

As they flew over an irrigation ditch, they saw bodies inside. Shirou noticed some movement.

"It looks to me like there's an awful lot of unnecessary killing going on down there," Thompson radioed. "Something ain't right about this. There's bodies everywhere. There's a ditch full of bodies that we saw. There's something wrong here."

Thompson landed the helicopter in a field. All Shirou could do was stare at the burning village in front of him.

"Stay here and call for support," Thompson said. "I'm going to see if I can help."

As he walked over to the ditch, he was approached by another soldier waiting nearby.

"Hey. There's some civilians over in this ditch. Can you help them out?" Thompson said.

"I can help them out of their misery," the sergeant responded callously.

"Cut this crap. Help them out."

Shirou saw another soldier join Thompson and sent the other one off.

"What's going on here, Lieutenant?" Thompson demanded.

"This is my business," the lieutenant replied.

"What is this? Who are these people?"

"Just following orders."

"Orders? Whose orders?"

"Just following..."

"But, these are human beings, unarmed civilians, sir."

The lieutenant brushed him aside. "Look Thompson, this is my show. I'm in charge here. It ain't your concern."

"Yeah, great job," Thompson said sarcastically.

"You better get back in that chopper and mind your own business," the lieutenant taunted him.

"You ain't heard the last of this!" Thompson swore. He raced back to the chopper and powered it back on. As they lifted off and flew across the ditch, Shirou ducked at the sound of gunfire. As he looked back, he noticed someone walking along the ditch, nonchalantly shooting in the ditch with his M60 machine gun.

"My God, he's firing into the ditch."Shirou said.

"Damn it," Thompson muttered.

The flimsy helicopter flew across the village. Thick black smoke wafted into the air. The flames nearly licked at the helicopter. Bodies littered the village and the surrounding fields. People were scattering, running for their lives. Although he was shocked at the scenes before him, he was more concerned about friendly fire. The Americans could turn on them at any moment. They had more than enough firepower to turn on them and to shoot them out of the sky.

As they flew over a corner of the village, they spotted a group of ten civilians running toward an improvised, earthen shelter. As the children struggled to follow their parents, a platoon of soldiers pursued them from behind, shooting their M16's. The helicopter swiftly landed between them. Shirou looked over his shoulder. Fortunately, they stopped and lowered their assault rifles. He was fortunate he wouldn't have to open fire.

"Y'all cover me!" Thompson ordered as he dismounted. "If these bastards open up on me or these people, you open up on them. Promise me!"

"You got it boss, consider it done," the other door gunner said.

"Same here," Shirou said. In front of him were a group of Vietnamese men, women, and children cowering in the earthen bunker. They stared at him intensely with fearful eyes. Children cried as they clenched against their relatives. Shirou realized it already, but they were just like him. He couldn't help noticing that one of girls had an uncanny resemblance to Tohsaka. Averting their gaze, he turned the pintle-mounted M60 as far as he could toward the group of soldiers.

Thompson was talking to one of them. "Hey listen, hold your fire," he said. "I'm going to try to get these people out of this bunker. Just hold your men here."

"Yeah, we can help you get 'em out of that bunker - with a hand grenade!" a soldier yelled.

"Just hold your men here. I think I can do better than that."

Thompson walked around the helicopter and in front of Shirou. He motioned them to the Vietnamese in the bunker. Shirou wasn't sure what he was saying but he managed to coax all of them out of the bunker. Shirou could feel the tension build. His finger sat nervously near the trigger.

Thompson climbed over Shirou and went over to the radio. "I got a little problem down here," he said.

"What do you want me to do?" someone radioed back.

"I'd like for you to land and get these people out of this area."

"Okay, sure thing. No problem."

A few minutes later, a grey UH-1 Iroquois landed near them. After a brief conversation, the Vietnamese were evacuated onto the gunships. As they couldn't fit all of them into the gunship, it became clear that two trips had to be made. During that time, an uneasy standoff ensued. Shirou nervously tapped his finger on the side of the M60. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it. The minutes seemed like hours. It was extraordinary to him that no one started shooting.

As the last of men, women, and children were on the gunships, Thompson returned to the helicopter. "Well, let's make one pass over the ditch again," he said.

They flew over to the ditch again. With no other soldiers in sight, they disembarked. It was eerily quiet. Nothing came from the burning village. Shirou went over to the ditch. He could have sworn he saw some movement. It was full of bodies as far as the eye could see. Finding someone would be incredibly hard at this rate. Seeing a little boy move in the middle of ditch, he carefully waded through.

Feeling something tugging at his trousers, he glanced down. He couldn't save the multitude of people that wanted help. There was no way he could prevent them from dying. "I can't help you. You're too bad," he said.

He pulled the boy out and raced out of the ditch toward the helicopter. He didn't know why he saved him. But he chose to save that one child out of so many others that fateful day. They wished they could have saved all of them, they really did. However, only 21 were saved out of hundreds that died. As Shirou ran faster, the scene around him faded to black. The child disappeared from his arms.

"Glenn Andreotta was killed less than one month after the My Lai Massacre on April 8, 1968," a booming voice said. "His Bronze Star citation for his part in the My Lai Massacre was falsified to cover up the incident. Thompson's signature was forged on the eyewitness report. In December 1969, over a year after My Lai, the events of the horrible massacre were made public. Hugh Thompson, Jr. was summoned to Washington, D.C. where he was criticized by members of the House Armed Services Committee who were anxious to downplay the atrocities. The chairman, Representative Mendel Rivers, felt that Thompson was the only soldier that should have been punished and tried to have him court-marshaled. As the public learned of his role, Thompson received hate mail, death threats, and mutilated animals on his doorstep. He would never be the same since that fateful day."

"What the hell? What's going on here?" Shirou wondered.

"You! Who are you? What are you doing here in my world?" it demanded. "Get out! Get out, now!"

Shirou awakened in a cold sweat. The clock ticked in the serene darkness. Looking down, he saw a dark red stain on his palm. Resisting the urge to panic, he sneaked out of the guest room where he and Arturia were sleeping and into the bathroom. A quick rinse of warm water did the trick. Maybe he could wash away those terrible dreams as well.

Hearing loud cracks, Shirou stared incredulously out the window. To his dismay, Rin was right. Golden streaks filled the skies above Fuyuki City. Crackles and pops of gunfire filtered through the night. He was glad he took Rin's advice. If he tried to walk home tonight with Arturia, he was certain they were going to be dragged into multiple firefights. He wasn't sure anyone in Fuyuki City could see what was happening. Maybe they believed it was fireworks.

"Can't sleep, Shirou?"

Shirou turned around. Dressed in buttoned-up, gold pajamas, Rin stood near him. The moonlight softly lit her figure. Her slender shoulders parted flowing black hair in two. She smiled quizzically. It was best if Shirou didn't ask.

"Yeah. I didn't believe you at first, but you're right," Shirou admitted. "Are you OK?"

"No, not really," Rin sighed. "But I'll manage."

"Are you sure? I mean, losing Archer again must be hard."

"It is, but it's nothing new. I didn't expect him to stay around forever."

"Oh."

Rin approached Shirou cautiously. The look in her eyes reminded him of wanting, desire. Her stare was awkward. He wasn't sure what she was doing or what should he be doing. He stepped back nervously, not liking where this was leading to. Maybe Tohsaka would let him go back to sleep, to pretend it was all a dream. Instead, Tohsaka reached forward, holding both of Shirou's hands, preventing him from running away.

"Tohsaka? What are you doing?" he recoiled back.

"Your hands," Rin murmured. "They feel very similar, if not the same, compared to Archer's."

"Hold on, Tohsaka. This is not the right time."

"I know, but you're the only guy I feel comfortable around at the moment. Um… I know you love Arturia and all, but can I be selfish for once?" Rin asked, holding Shirou's outstretched hands timidly.

"I guess," Shirou said hesitantly.

Rin leaned in and placed her head and arms on Shirou's chest. Wrapping his arms around her slender waist, he held her snugly. Tohsaka whimpered into his chest. He didn't know exactly what she experienced in the first round, but whatever happened, it was enough to break her. The loss of Archer was obviously devastating. It was heartbreaking for him to see her like this, an extreme opposite from her confident self.

After Rin managed to recover her composure somewhat, she wriggled herself free from Shirou's arms. She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks. I- I-needed that," Rin said. "I think I'll be back to normal when the sun comes up. Good night, Shirou."

As Shirou watched her disappear into the hazy darkness, he turned around and walked back to the guest bedroom. He really hoped she was right this time. Then again, Arturia could understand. This was Tohsaka Rin after all, a person they both trusted with their lives once before. As he sneaked back in, he made sure to give Arturia a quick kiss before going back to sleep; hoping that everything would return to normal soon.

* * *

High above Fuyuki City, the master sat down on the roof with his back against the loudly humming air-conditioning units. Gold streaks raced over his head. Earsplitting cracks pierced the night. It was supposed to be a routine mana hunting mission, to replenish some of the depleted mana they used while recovering. To his frustration, it turned into a warzone without warning. One shooter turned into tens, maybe hundreds as his surroundings turned chaotic. He didn't know what set them off or where they were coming from. Was someone watching them? They had to get off the roof. Someone was eventually going to snipe them off the roof if they didn't.

He turned to, Iris. She seemed calm but he knew her heart would be racing by now. "Follow me. We're getting out," he said.

He looked over his shoulder. The door to the fire exit was close enough to reach. Breaking cover, he sprinted with his TRG sniper rifle and forced the door open. After waiting for Iris to follow him through, he closed the door behind them.

"Are you hit?" he asked.

"I'm fine, sir," Iris said, pulling the ski mask down from her face. "Ready when you are."

"Alright, watch my six. Let's move."

The master slung the TRG across his back and gripped his Glock 18 low and tight. Iris did the same with her Artic Warfare Magnum and took her Browning Hi-Power out of its holster. The master inched cautiously down the stairs, sweeping his Glock around every bend. About halfway down, he heard voices and stopped just before the doorway. As he pressed his head up against the wall, muffled conversations punctuated by dulled gunshots filtered through.

"X-rays in the building. Don't know if they're good or bad. Serves no point engaging them head-on."

He peeked around the corner to check and slowly moved down the stairs. Each floor felt like a potential landmine. He wasn't sure what kind of person would burst through those doors or come up those stairs. Their weapon kits weren't exactly ideal either. The weapons they carried were not favorable for close quarters. He was especially wary of anyone coming up with a shotgun, ready to blast them to pieces.

After some tense moments, they reached the bottom of the staircase. The master braced his back against the wall and peeked through the glass. A group of people stood behind cover tensely, pointing their assault rifles, submachine guns, and shotguns at each other in the hotel lobby.

"I don't know what they're doing, but it looks like a bleeding convention."

As he moved to open the door, the lobby erupted with gunfire. The master pulled his hand back. He tapped Iris' shoulder and pointed upward. He hoped he could use the second floor to stealthily observe and get through the lobby when it was all clear. Finding another way out was going to be too time consuming. Iris acknowledged him and they moved up the stairs. They stacked up against the door. The master gripped his Glock tightly in his hands. He never liked close quarters combat.

The master looked at Iris and nodded. She nodded back. He kicked the door open and Iris rushed through, with the master following close behind. As Iris went left, he went right, clearing their respective areas with ease. He looked down the curving hallway and moved slowly. With a row of doors on either side, he couldn't afford to stop at every one, jiggle the door handles, and clear every single room. Walking straight through meant risking being ambushed, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

The master stopped in front of a white pair of double doors with one of its brass door handles blown out. The master checked with Iris and prepared himself. He nudged the loose door with his knee, twisting his Glock around, making sure there was no one there. He crouched along the marble balcony and stopped before it ended at grand staircase. Breathing in nervously, he wasn't sure what was behind the corner.

He sneaked a peek from behind cover. A large chandelier illuminated the carnage before him. Bodies were slumped in various ways on the polished marble. Broken glass was scattered on the floor. Holes drilled into the walls. The glass doors were smashed through. The lobby was eerily quiet. Breaking from cover, the master advanced cautiously down the staircase. The glass crunched under his feet. He brought his pistol up. If anyone was going to ambush them here, now was the perfect opportunity; too close for sniper rifles and too far for pistols.

"Damn. Sir, the bodies; their faces have been wiped clean," Iris said.

"I know. We'll discuss this later."

As they neared the exit, a torrent of shots rang out. "Fire at will," he said.

As the master raced toward cover, he heard a dull thud. The unthinkable.

"I'm hit," Iris said.

The master turned and saw her lying face-down on the floor, struggling to get herself back up. He rushed over to her, got her sniper rifle off her back, and pulled her by her shoulders. Dodging machine gun fire around him, he found a round, overturned table to take cover by. Looking at the wound on her thigh, he detached the sling from her rifle and wrapped it around. The master was no medic, but he knew basic first aid. He hoped it would be good enough to save her.

He grabbed his SAKO TRG and started looking. His reticule darted across the buildings, hoping to spot the shooter. Spotting one taking cover, he fired a round in the general direction, hoping to deter or to force the gunner to move to another position. He couldn't fire a precise shot. His heart was beating too fast, preventing the fine crosshairs from staying still and on target. He'd have to be calm and stationary.

He looked over at Iris. Thankfully, she was still conscious and looked like in stable condition. The primitive tourniquet that he fashioned slowed most of the bleeding. Her bleeding was not critical but it was clear to him that they needed to get out and seek medical help. Facing only one shooter was less of a problem than facing a shooter while trying to evacuate casualties at the same time.

Sensing a lull in the shooting, the master leaned and aimed his sniper rifle. This was his only chance to at least break the will of anyone trying to shoot at them. He saw the machine gun carrying shooter in his scope. His crosshair floated over the top of his blonde colored head. The master held his breath as the crosshair floated downward. As it was nearing the center, he pulled the trigger straight back, certain that it was spot on. He watched as he collapsed onto the middle of the street. The master was satisfied and relieved. They were going to survive, at least for now.

Confident that there were no other shooters, he slung his sniper rifle and picked up Iris's Arctic Warfare.

"Tourniquet holding up?" he said. "It's just the thigh, right?"

Gritting through the pain, Iris weakly nodded. He cautiously helped Iris up and wrapped placed her arm on his shoulders. He placed his hand on her waist, trying to hold her steadily upright. The master and Iris hobbled out of the ruined hotel lobby. It was a hollow victory for him. Despite escaping mostly intact, they wasted their time and effort coming here; achieving nothing but putting their lives in danger. Maybe they should stay away from the city for the time being.

* * *

The next morning, the trio left the Tohsaka Mansion to head to Shinto. It was clear that Rin was up to something, but it was painfully obvious to Shirou that she wouldn't tell them despite trying to persuade her to explain. As they approached Fuyuki Bridge, two people stood in on top of the apex. Ilya stood next to a person dressed head to toe in dark black armor, with only a red visor streaking across his helmet. Across his back was a black Mk 14 Mod 0 EBR with a telescopic sight and grip attached. The metal stock extended into the air.

"I'm sure you're ready to play hide and seek with my new friend," Ilya patronized them as she recognized them. She rested her hand on his upper arm. "Isn't he a marvel of technology? The future solider existed only in the imaginations of thinkers from the present. I'm sure you'll find a familiar face underneath the helmet."

On command the person lifted his helmet off his head.

"Archer!" Rin gasped. "No! There's no way!"

Archer's pale, stoic face did not change. Archer's ghastly marble skin reflected in the harsh sunlight. His swept back hair fluttered slightly. A blood red tattoo snaked up his neck and branched across his face. Pale yellow eyes stared piercingly at them. Shirou couldn't believe it. For Archer to switch sides without any twitch of regret was inconceivable. There was no possible way he would betray Rin. To do so right in front of her face, he would never forgive him for that.

Ilya smiled curtly. "I'm sure you'll all agree that Archer's the perfect candidate. He came so willingly too."

"Liar," Rin hissed.

"Rin, run," Archer growled.

"What is he saying?" Shirou said.

"RUN!" Archer yelled.

-_FINIS CHAPTER VII-_

_Thank you to gdouglas56 and rultas for reviewing!_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: The author does not condone shooting people for the hell of it. Please practice proper gun safety.  
**

Mmm... yes. Archer Alter paired up with Ilya. This was something I always wanted to do. I was thinking of pairing a corrupted Archer with Sakura but I always had that nagging feeling that Ilya sounded like the better candidate. For his appearance, I tried to keep the 'Alter' theme but I've added in a little 'Robocop-esque evil-soldier-of-the-future' aspect. It seems more menacing that way. As for the equipment, it remains within the same realm similar to the Ghost Recon visualization of the Future Force Warrior Concept with the exception of the Mk 14 Mod 0 EBR. The Mk 14 Mod 0 is a heavily modified variant of the venerable M14 designed for Designated Marksman and CQB. It was first introduced to the US Special Naval Warfare Command and to the SEALs in 2004. It basically takes the standard M14 barrel and action and replaces just about everything else, making almost unrecognizable from the original. It has since become a popular rifle among civilian shooters as well.

The My Lai Massacre was a mass murder committed by Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 20th Infantry Regiment, 11th Brigade, 23rd Infantry Division, on March 16, 1968. The exact number of deaths is unknown but it ranges from 304 deaths estimated by the US Army to the 504 deaths reported by the Vietnamese Government. Many victims were abused, beaten, tortured, and/or mutilated. While 26 U.S. soldiers were initially charged with criminal offenses for their actions at My Lai, only William Calley was convicted. He served only three years of an original life sentence, spent on house arrest. Three men, Hugh Thompson, Jr., Glenn Andreotta, and Lawrence Colburn managed to intervene and prevent further bloodshed. If not for their actions, it is likely that the death toll would have been drastically higher. My initial concept of the My Lai scene was to characterize it in a scene. I quickly realized I couldn't do it justice. This scene has been made as historically accurate as possible, right down to the dialogue of Thompson, Andreotta (which Shirou takes his POV), and Colburn. It required a fair bit more of writing but I feel like it was well worth it.

I hope with all the sniper action, Archer Alter, and controversial history have made up for the nearly three month wait. I am going to be taking a quick break from this story to work on one of my other fics. Hopefully, I can shake off some the writer's block and story fatigue and approach this story with fresher eyes for future chapters.

Love it, hate it? Feedback? Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!

Until next time.


	8. Fate's Cauterizers

**Chapter VIII**

**Fate's Cauterizers**

**DISCLAIMER: **_All trademarks belong to their respective owners, including Fate/Stay Night to TYPE-MOON. I do not own a shred of anything outside my original characters and plot ideas._

The sky was falling on Fuyuki City. The shells rained down one after the other, tearing apart Shirou's surroundings. The high pitched screeching accompanied the violent explosions that followed, shaking the ground from underneath his feet. Bracing himself against a pillar, he closed his eyes and focused his prana. He didn't want to die here today. But if he did, he'd fight to the death, especially against a deranged Ilya and Archer.

She was cackling. _Cackling._

"Trace, on," Shirou muttered. He hoped he could summon something more than a pistol. But the gun that dropped into his hands was a black P220.

"You've got to be kidding me," he cursed. At least it was better than nothing.

Shirou peeked out. What was left behind was a battered landscape from hell. On the other side of Fuyuki Bridge, columns of dust and smoke rose into the air. The promenade that ran along the river was dotted with craters. He tried listening for Ilya and Archer, but they were gone. The cowards must have scattered.

Rin and Arturia must be looking for him, but he would accomplish nothing by staying where he was. Pistol in hand, he scurried around the vicinity, hoping to reunite with anyone of them. Shirou spotted her in the park, resting up against one of the sculptures. A blood trail led him to her. He feared for the worst.

"Tohsaka!" he yelled, sprinting toward her position.

"Shirou?" Rin winced. "Argh. At least you're still in one piece."

"Are you OK?"

"I've got a broken leg. Managed to push myself here using the rest of my limbs. Don't worry about me, Shirou, find Arturia first," Rin said, her face gritting and contorting. "I can treat my own wounds. We're going to be dead without her abilities."

"Don't be stupid! I've got to pull you if Ilya starts firing at us again."

"Idiot. I'm still a much better magus than you," Rin smiled weakly as she tried to annoy him through the pain. She grabbed her battered Uzi submachine gun and held it up. Deep scratch wounds ran all over the metallic body. "And besides, I've got this."

Before Shirou could respond, streaks of light raced toward his head, barely missing it. The searing heat tinged the side of his head. Panicking, he dropped onto the pavement. Had it been a few inches closer, he would have been killed. He scurried forward on his belly, finding relative cover behind a concrete barrier. This was it. They were pinned down in the open. If a sniper found them, it was all over. He tried not to think about it.

"What are you doing, Shirou?" Rin demanded. "Find Arturia. We need her firepower and her Noble Phantasm, if she has one."

The volume of fire only increased. If he stood up, he was asking to be shot. Responding to such an challenge was impossible. The fire boxed him in. He tried to think of a way out but it was going to be too costly, especially for him. Rin tugged his sleeves, silently demanding him once again. Her eyes fluttered, head tilting back and forth as she slipped in and out of consciousness. He hoped she could stay awake long enough to motivate him somewhat, but she slumped forward with her battered Uzi in her hand.

Prying it from her, Shirou blindly returned fire. Even he figured it wasn't going too much. He knew they were coming closer, but he wasn't sure where. It was clear that he was going to be overwhelmed soon without support. Abandoning Rin was never an option. He needed her intelligence and expertise as much as he needed Arturia's firepower.

"Blindly firing my gun won't do much, Shirou," Rin chided him. "You're only wasting my mana."

"Then what the hell do you want me to do, then?" Shirou demanded.

"Go find Arutria," Rin hissed. "Or go die."

"Do you want to die instead?"

"I know the risks," Rin gasped, struggling to maintain focus. "Just… shut up."

Shirou glanced long enough out of cover to see a grenade tumbling on the ground. Without any time to complain, he rolled over onto his side, bracing himself in the fetal position against the inevitable explosion that followed. He braced himself as the shockwave battered him. As he looked up, he saw Arturia running toward them while firing her olive green L85A1 assault rifle. She dived, taking advantage of whatever scant cover there was.

"Shirou, are you all right?" Arturia said.

"I'm fine. Tohsaka isn't. We're going to need your Noble Phantasm," Shirou said. "Do you even have one?"

"Do you wish to save Rin? At the risk of severe injury or death to both of you?"

Shirou contemplated pensively. He would hate to lose Rin, or an arm or a leg for that matter. He was unsure of what Arturia was going to do but anything was better than nothing at this point. He was prepared to take that risk and to accept whatever consequences would come from it.

"Yeah. Just do it."

"Understood, Shirou. Be prepared to move Rin."

Arturia sighed. Shirou saw the pained expression on her face. She grabbed the radio, held it up to her mouth, and paused at the magnitude of the words she was about to say.

"Echo Two Four this is Sierra Six, fire for effect, danger close, over," she recited. "Whiskey Papa 150 meters HOB, over."

"Copy, Sierra Six," a voice responded. "Whiskey Papa on the way."

"Quickly, Shirou," Arturia ordered. "We must hurry."

Shirou bolted with Rin over his shoulder. A bright flash and a loud bang directed Shirou's attention toward the sky. A fantail of white smoke cascaded overhead. Glowing orange balls of fire rained down onto Fuyuki City, bursting on impact, spreading their burning payload in every direction. He dipped his chin and bit his shirt, trying to stave off the noxious smoke. The screams, the bitter smell; shutting it out was never going to be easy.

It felt like he was carrying Rin for the longest time. The river flowed to his right while burning white embers smoldered to his left. In front of him was Arturia, still running with her L85A1 assault rifle jerking side to side. He followed her as she turned off to the side to let him rest.

"By 'Whiskey Papa,' you didn't mean?" Shirou gasped.

"White phosphorus," Arturia explained. "I have heard about its additional use as an incendiary device-"

"But you could have used napalm for that."

"I refuse to stoop that low, using it solely for that purpose. Here, let me relieve you of Rin's burden."

"Thanks," Shirou said. After getting Rin off his back and setting her down on a grassy embankment, Shirou looked back. Beyond the ghostly white haze, there was nothing. Sirens faintly wailed but he couldn't tell where they were coming from. He was just glad that they were free of their troubles for now. "How is Rin doing?"

"It seems she will survive."

"That's good," Shirou said. "I'll take her back to her house."

"I will carry her."

"No," Shirou said. "I need you armed and alert."

Despite her lightness, carrying Rin was no easy task. Every step was a challenge. He was already exhausted from carrying her once already. He focused on Arturia wandering and spinning around with her assault rifle in front of her. They should be fine. No one was going to try to pick fights with such a noble phantasm such as hers.

Without incident, they retreated to the Tohsaka mansion. Arturia helped Shirou set Rin down onto one of her couches. Shirou collapsed into a upholstered chair, breathing heavily. The grandfather clock's ticking punctuated his breathing.

"All of us were nearly killed out there," Shirou gasped.

"I am afraid so," Arturia said, setting her assault rifle down.

Shirou looked over at Rin. "There's no point going to Shinto," he said. "Maybe we have a better chance just staying away."

"We are just as vulnerable in the outskirts as well."

"Yeah. You're right," he admitted nervously. "It's about time we start choosing our battles as well."

"Are you suggesting we go on the offensive?"

"Not right now. Not in this state."

An awkward silence descended between them. He knew he was right about his decision to retreat for now, but he wanted to attack. They couldn't be at the mercy of being attacked at whim. He wanted allies, but he knew that they would be hard to come by. He tried concentrating on more current matters.

"What about Archer, though?" Shirou asked. "He's lost, right?"

"You know the answer as much as I do, Shirou. I am sorry but recovering Archer is not something I would like to focus on at the moment."

"Well, it didn't hurt to ask," Shirou quipped. "I don't know if Tohsaka wants to hear it."

He tilted his head back and fell asleep. This war was too complicated. He didn't care if it was Tohsaka's chair he was sleeping in. The worst she could do was chew him out for it. She wouldn't anyway, he saved her ass today. She'd better not.

* * *

The bright midday sun beat down on Shirou. Harsh winds swept the dusty road. Despite the appearance of houses, cars, and streets, the world Shirou stepped into was lifeless. He wandered further, trying to find some answers. Walking along the same wind battered road, Shirou encountered what looked like to be a ten year old boy to him. His bare feet dragged heavily. Pale, ragged, dirt-stained clothes draped over him like sackcloth.

"Who are you?" Shirou asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Me?" the boy responded, scratching his fist behind his back. "I am a simple refugee. I just wish to return home. And I ask you the same, Emiya Shirou. What are you doing in my world?"

"Your world?"

"Yes," the boy pointed to the left, without turning around. "Do you see this wall?"

Shirou stopped and turned. The towering dark, ugly grey wall dominated over him, dividing the harsh, brown landscape in a blight of concrete. Scribbled and painted on its side was a jumbled assortment of decorated murals and spray-painted scribbles, all emotionally charged. Big black letters proclaimed "ICH BIN EIN BERLINER". But Shirou knew this was not Europe, or at least didn't seem like it. Although it didn't resemble a devastated warzone, the presence of an endless and senseless wall still made him uneasy .

"This is the wall built by Zionists who claim it's for security. You know this as much as I do, but this is not a barrier for security."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about or who you are. How the hell do you know my name?"

"Do you know where you are?"

Shirou was even more confused, but he decided to play along. "No."

"You're in the little town of Bethlehem," the boy jeered, shaking his head. "Where you can be harassed for identification, be searched without a shred of dignity, and other bullshit that didn't exist 2000 years ago. Not even Isa would have put up with this shit. God help us."

"Then what is this wall doing here?" Shirou asked.

"Ask the Zionists and you'll get the same excuse. If you really want to know, it's for racial segregation."

Shirou stopped.

"Only in Palestine does such rampant apartheid exist. I've seen it all. Land, water, freedom of movement, and even our economy is being strangled. All for in the name of security, so that they can sleep well at night knowing that they rob other people of their human rights."

"Any solutions?" Shirou wondered.

"We've been promised help, a solution, for over seventy years. Seventy fucking years!"

"But you look like you're ten."

"True, but that is the wish of my creator. I am to remain this way for the rest of my existence. But alas, he is dead, assassinated, and I live on."

"That's terrible."

"You misunderstand me. I do not resent my creation. Because I am the representation of our people's struggles and what the Zionists hate, I consider myself proud."

"But why?"

"Simple really. The West continues to support the Zionists. Meanwhile, our own leadership spews fiery rhetoric, but compromises on everything. Hell, they only compromised only after they realized they were senselessly killing each other for five straight years."

"One giant mess, then."

"You've got that right, brother," the boy said. He pointed a hill filled with gleaming towers, far beyond what they could travel on foot. "See that? While we were killing each other, the Zionists built their own settlements. On our land, no less!"

"So you went to war because of that?"

"Shut up! Understand Emiya Shirou, when an oppressed people such as this one have exhausted all solutions; at the end of all hope, reason, and good faith they will turn to war. War is tragic, yes, but mankind will never put an end to war. Never in human history has man solved war."

NEVER!

* * *

Shirou groggily sat up, unaware of how much time had passed. A couple minutes? A couple hours? Rin's harsh insults never came, which was a small victory itself. A group of vaguely familiar voices that were a jumble in his head cleared up.

Rin coughed. "I wish I knew everything, Arturia. We're still dealing with a lot of armed teams roaming around Fuyuki city. It's going to be attrition."

"What about looking for allies?" Arturia wondered.

"I'd doubt it. Any allies we recruit, we're going to fight eventually. Either way, we're on borrowed time."

"That's why we need to be more proactive, Tohsaka," Shirou said. "We're wasting time reacting to everything."

"That's the way it should be," Rin said. "It's like the beginning of Grail War all over again. Remember the chaos, Shirou?"

"Yeah, but- "

"We're better on the defensive. I know that first encounter nearly got all of us killed, but exposing ourselves is just as bad, if not worse. I should move to your place too," Rin mused.

"Wait, why?"

"Because it is situated on a hill, we can recognize enemy combatants first. They will not move as fast, tire more easily, and their throwing range of a grenade, if they have one, is limited," Arutria said. "It will also take longer to completely clear a property such as Shirou's since there are more places to hide."

"At least someone's thinking tactically," Rin chided. "Even with my spells, I won't stand a chance if Ilya or anyone else decides unleash a sustained artillery barrage without warning."

"There can't be anyone else with artillery," Shirou said. "Assuming what you said about the guns, it would require enormous amounts of magical energy."

"But there's always a possibility of a Noble Phantom with it," Rin said. "Having Ilya with it is scary enough already. I am not ruling out that others might have it."

"I'll keep that in mind," Shirou said.

"Please do, Emiya-kun," Rin said. "I'll meet up with you again tomorrow."

"Don't you want to head out right now?"

"Go on ahead, Emiya-kun; there are some things I have to do. Maybe a last minute sweep of bulletins from the Clock Tower. But there's something I've been working on," Rin smirked. "I guess I'll tell you tomorrow."

Shirou and Arturia left the Tohsaka Mansion and trudged their way up the hill to head back to the Emiya Residence. Rin could be right for all he knew. With all the things that happened today, other combatants should be planning their next moves by now. Nothing seemed familiar about his surroundings, especially at night. While he was eager to return home as quickly as possible, he watched the rooftops and especially his back for confrontations he would like to avoid. Arturia stayed close by, ready for combat.

"I knew I would run into the same filthy lowlifes again," someone sneered.

"Shit," Shirou cursed.

Shirou stopped. He recognized that voice. That haughty, condescending sneer never faded from his absence from the Grail War. That persistent asshole should be dead, or at the very least, rotting in hell. At the top of the hill, from the shadows, a tall lanky figure emerged dressed in a black trenchcoat, despite the summer weather emerged. Smiling mockingly at Shirou, he brushed blonde hair back. Glaring red eyes narrowed. Despite his more youthful appearance, Shirou knew who he was.

Gilgamesh.

"What are you doing here, Gilgamesh?" Arturia demanded.

"What am _I_ doing here?" Gilgamesh mocked her. "Why do you care? I am in the same competition as you are. Anything to control the Holy Grail war is a noble goal. Smashing imbeciles is an added bonus."

"I'll kill you!" Shirou yelled.

Gilgamesh laughed manically. "Kill me? You couldn't even kill the person who first shot you up! Sun Wukong, the 'mercenary'? Pathetic!"

Shirou was dumbfounded. "How did you?"

Gilgamesh summoned a long, nearly cylindrical object into his hands. The black, nearly flawless, Vickers machine gun reflected faintly. Despite looking bulky, he lifted it up effortlessly to his shoulder. "Simple. Never bring a shotgun to a machine gun fight. My offer still stands, Saber. I know what you're armed with and what your Noble Phantasms are. For you, I'll spare the unnecessary, gory death for a warrior past her prime."

"Never," Arturia stated. "I would rather die."

Gilgamesh clicked his lips in disappointment. "My, my, bold and stubborn as always. What a pity. Come, Herostratus."

Shirou watched as Herostratus lurched forward, revealing himself in tightly pressed khakis. Long brown hair was messily swept back. A roughened beard complimented his distinctly unflattering appearance. Azure eyes glanced at Gilgamesh and then stared piercingly at Shirou. A battered, rusted, AK-47 was slung over his shoulder. Three Molotov cocktails were firmly attached at his side. His hand trembled erratically, anxiously waiting to throw any one of them.

"Is this my time of glory?" Herostratus demanded.

"Yes," Gilgamesh acknowledged. "Burn this city like you did at Ephesus, boy."

Herostratus laughed psychotically. As he reached for a Molotov cocktail, Arturia brought her assault rifle up and opened fire. In response, Gilgamesh opened fire as well. Shirou ran toward cover. Despite her efforts to intervene, Arturia was too late. Stuck behind cover, Shirou inhaled some of the noxious smoke. The screams, the crackling of flames, the shattering of another Molotov cocktail on cold, dark asphalt; it was too much for him to simply cower behind cover.

"Come out and fight!" Herostratus screeched. "I'll take all the pleasure in parading your pathetic ass in the streets!"

He focused his mana again with the intent of creating something better than a pistol. He wasn't sure if he could summon a submachine gun like Rin's Uzi, but it didn't hurt to try. A Remington 870 shotgun dropped in his hands. Gripping the black polymer stock, he pulled the pump-action back and pushed it forward. He liked the sound of that click.

Looking around the burning buildings, Shirou saw a narrow alleyway across the street. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Arturia struggling to respond against the overwhelming firepower. He jerked to cover again, just as another Molotov cocktail exploded. Breathing in, breathing out, he dashed toward oblivion.

He could have sworn he heard ,"Shirou, wait!" but it was too late now. Frantic footsteps and a pounding heart shielded him from the inferno around him. Safely reaching the other side exhausted, he collapsed. There was no way he could have ran that. He wanted to be proud in his accomplishments but there was no time. After straining to get up, he went off.

His shotgun braced against his shoulders as he marched through the empty street. Heart pounding and adrenaline flowing, he turned into alleys, hoping to catch both of them off guard. There was only one chance to do this right. The sounds of Gilgamesh's machine gun grew louder, calling him, tempting him into battle.

Bracing his back against the wall, he paused momentarily.

"Well, this is it," he reflected.

A sharp crack and a whistle raced in front of Shirou. He instinctively retreated behind cover, keeping a firm grip on his shotgun.

"Damn! I'm hit!" Herostratus yelled. "Fire your machine gun! I'm not going to die at the hands of a coward!"

"Get to cover, idiot!" Gilgamesh sneered between shots. "It's a sniper! It's trying to draw me out by wounding you!"

"That asshole's abandoning me! I've done more for him than he'll ever realize!" Herostratus muttered as he staggered near Shirou's position.

Shirou watched as Herostratus stumbled past him and crumpled to the ground, seemingly unaware of his presence. Moving quickly, he brought his shotgun up to his shoulder and fired.

"I hate you, boy," Herostratus grumbled. "You're robbing me of my rightfully earned glory!"

Shirou fired again. "Just shut up," he shot back.

Shirou stared at the disintegrating corpse of Herostratus. Even though it was his first kill, it seemed like a hollow victory to him. There would always be more heinous scum like Gilgamesh. More importantly Gilgamesh shouldn't even be here, much less armed with a machine gun. He thought he had ridded himself of a nagging reminder from the Grail War. Knowing him, there was no limit of what he would do. There was no doubt he'd see Gilgamesh again.

His surroundings were eerily quiet again, just as they were. Gilgamesh probably retreated for now. Despite his cocky attitude, he felt that even Gilgamesh respected how powerful a sniper was. Sensing movement behind him, he turned and whipped the shotgun up to eye level. He advanced forward cautiously.

"Please lower your weapon, Shirou," Arturia said.

"Shit," Shirou sighed, complying with Artruia's request. "Let's go home. I don't like snipers."

"Attention all combatants, a ceasefire will be enforced for 48 hours effective at midnight tonight. Do not start any new firefights," Ilya said, her voice permeating the air. "I say again, a ceasefire will be enforced for 48 hours effective at midnight tonight. Do not start any new fights. Violators will be punished swiftly and harshly."

"Finally," Shirou said.

"Even though I enjoyed all of your exploits, there is still more fighting left to do. For now, take this time to lick your wounds and mourn your losses. Wounded and lethargic fighters are no fun to watch. That is all."

Shirou was relieved, at least for now. A moment of mandatory respite was never a bad thing. As Shirou and Arturia retreated to the Emiya mansion, Shirou knew that they had a lot of catching up to do. He could sense the tension building in Fuyuki City to greater levels than the Grail War. Determined to never be caught without a weapon again, he kept his shotgun with him.

Now that he thought about it, all the accomplishments up to now felt lucky.

He knew what he had to do, but even he wasn't sure he'd be still alive by then.

_-FINIS CHAPTER VIII-_

_Thanks to Chiaztolite_, _rultas, Onyx Da Rager, and Jcho1117fate for reviewing!_

**AUTHORS NOTE: Sigh...**

Herostratus is known as one of the most infamous arsonists of all time. He burned down the Temple of Artemis in 356BC and instead of evading his crimes, proudly proclaimed it in an order to immortalize his name in history. Not only was he executed, but any mention of his name was strictly censored. However, the historian Theopompus recorded his crime in _Hellenics,_ as he is known today.

I wanted Arturia's Noble Phantasm to revolve around the tactical NATO officer, able to call for assistance using the assets of a first-world military (within reason, of course). To adapt Excalibur to the modern age of warfare, without using something implausible as railguns, I chose white phosphorus. White phosphorus is a highly flammable incendiary weapon that self-ignites with air and produces an extremely hot and bright flame. It is also a highly efficient smoke producing agent. It is used by armies as both, albeit just as controversially as napalm.

The Palestinian boy described is Handala, who symbolizes the Palestinian resistance against Israel. Created by Naji al-Ali, he is the most famous of his characters. al-Ali was assassinated in 1987, but his most iconic character lives on. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is endlessly complex and is still very relevant and divisive for a lot of people.

I really hope this chapter made up for my long absence. To put it simply, I have been extremely busy. I was working on this chapter for the longest time. And due to still painful tragedies, I had to rework and omit a few scenes in order not looking like an insensitive prick. Due to a very hectic schedule, I don't know when I'll update.

Love it, hate it? Feedback? Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!

Until next time.


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